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the hill poem
Up here, we hiked a one and a half miler,
walking slowly uphill, avoiding the poo of the horse piler.
Some tidbits here and there, what a history,
big houses, old cars, cement pools, what mystery.
reached the top! The end of our stroll, looking far at the cities
in wonder, why don’t I do this more often, I ponder in self pity.
Every day sitting through classes, retaining fact blocks,
staring at the tick-tock of the wall clock
Forget the books!
and the notes!
I’m free in the fields, forget even this poem I wrote.
Posted by Rudolph Klemencic on 5/26/04; 9:52:33 PM
from the dept.
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