Thursday, December 16, 2004

Uncontested Passage

The row of houses sitting face to face
Watch to see which house is first to move.
Between the rows extends a whitened space
Wherein of sidewalks there's but token trace
And all there is of street is a feathered groove.

But I am certain that the homes will stay in line;
They look cemented in by the solid snow --
By nature's deed first, now by man's design.
Not soon will shovel-zealots undermine
Snug indolence: there is no place to go.

For snow has stopped the town's activity.
So in the street I boldly walk along,
A peer of moter cars, and feel in me
The kind of joy in rebel liberty
We feel in venturing where we don't belong.
- Ken McLintock


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