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 pyritic glass of Hawaii
The few foreign grounds I’ve 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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