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Visiting the Badger Hole

Oh, the leaves are liquid yellow
As we ride on through Custer Park,
In search of that old Badger Hole:
Home of the poet Badger Clark.

Yes, we come to step back in time—
It’s a historic rule of thumb—
Where the city does not crowd you,
And man can be scattered some.

The old cabin now sits empty—
A last poetic monument—
Proving that words can still live on
Where men have lived and come and went.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2008




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Date: 2/1/2012 6:48:00 AM
I have truly enjoyed reading your poetry you have posted here at PoetrySoup. You are a very special poet and I wish you the best in your life and with your poetry. Two thumbs up to you Glen. Love and best wishes always, Carol
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