the
dog park
was
a ghost town yesterday
the
big oaks standing alone
facing
each other
subdued
in their own shadows
folding
back the rush of high noon
filling
water bowls
felt
like good citizenship
self-serving
as
it may have been
stark
white stone
from
the observatory
more
historic than functional
newton
still has his eye
on
the apple
where
the cross country trail
meets
up
each
for our own reasons
we
take in the quiet
comfort
and hold it
momentary
as it is
---
e b bortz
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