I listen to the thrumming of the wind
These trees tell stories of a time,
not so different for some,
The climb is still as steep,
Though the hum less rhythmic.
Electricity lays its lines out flat
for us to keep.
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I t must be Summer 1982, my memory's not great for dates, but I can place it by looking up the facts on Wiki, plus she's wearing s...
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Close your critical eye; Listen and use every other faculty. Disregard the illusion of progress, Of individuality parading in succes...
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