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A barren raging silence it lies quiet against the sky. Man's attempt to conquer it echo in the seagulls cry. Man holds no dominion here It's been proven in the past Nature's finally found her spot In a barren stoic grasp. I've walked among her people I have recognized her truth. Talked to all who cared to talk Lost the innocence of youth. Enchanted fiddle music sweetens the evening birds song Haunts and hangs upon the air After the fiddler has gone. Some birds huddle and stumble On a clump of granite stone They compliment the beauty Yet are only flesh and bone. This land puts age on old men After sopping up their youth. Here man has met his master This surrounding land is truth. Truth that does not compromise And that leaves no room for pride Here man lays his weary life On the moving morning tide.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2014

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Date: 8/1/2014 8:59:00 PM
Joe , I love your poem, but must admit, I don't get the title...the last stanza is awesome. BG
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