You can see why
someone like him
would love a landscape
like this; a slow meander
through tamed land,
unchanging, lost
to time with
those old
spires.
A river flowing
like it would never
reach the waiting
sea; a land whose
soil has no seed
of cities. And
all what was
wild, under
the plow.
08.03.2023
#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse
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