Oh No, Not Another Nature Poem!
What more is there to say.
The hills are hilly
the grass is grassy
and still inexplicable
as in Whitman’s day.
Leaves lie like litter, individual as snowflakes
each a jagged, textual miracle,
woven, a brown blanket
future fertilizer
for new leaves of grass.
Occasional birds twitter
a snatch of song
a suite
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RAMINGO! 