n'

 

 

 

 

Summer grass: all that remains of warriors' dreams

Stones drift off the path, to a field of suumer grass.
Mist circles its grove of ancient oak trees standing
guard against this morning's stormy sky.

When a new community rises here, recall those
warriors with their ephemeral dreams, and that
"everything is yet to be done: everything."

 

 

 

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