To be pedestrian is to be
Profoundly intimate
With earth scent and grass sheen
And the sun’s light and weight
It’s scorched dust and brambles
And pebbles in the shoe,
And violets surprising
The near, perceptive view
Oh, wings are wildly lovely
In blue alluring sky,
But who, would like at standstill
Because he cannot fly?
-From In Green Pastures
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