from this week in November 2008 (I was 63)
The learning of the new
comes not from the ground
not the baked clay of
California
nor the black loam of
Minnesota
nor the pyrric glass of
Hawaii
The few foreign grounds I
walked upon
seem not much different
in towns and cities built
over
with shops and churches
And in the country field
and forest
yield as ever the fragrant
must
of knowledge that has
always been
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