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Mount Muse

(AKA No need to muse)
27/7/08

By the way I travel,
the road in the night appears,
obligingly toward my destination.
To where the assuming flood plains are transient;
to where our sky bears untame cloud-skapes; and,
others' patchwork land is portioned by colour.

Here, the giant persona is friendly and silent;
Shades of green suggest history is subtly,
marked by cattle around its peak; and,
nearby, a defunct mill still welcomes gentle push,
and beckons by a its rusty squeel.
So there's no need to muse.

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