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Circle The Wagons
When the cold winds blow
And the hostile natives are restless
It’s time to wake up, smell the coffee
And cut your losses.
What is there to push back on, after all,
But the bitter taste
Of someone else’s resentment;
The mighty wind of their off-gassing.
The world is wild and cruel
Even within the treacherous smile of neighbors
When dog eats dog possesses their mind
You find yourself one of the dispossessed.
In this open, exposed and lonely place
Circle the wagons of your resolve
Recognize those you hold dear
And take solace in their love.
(4/13/25)
Copyright ©
James Moore
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