this country

Folder: 
dusted vault

 

 

"this country

 

 

This is a country that calls loudly,

a place that refuses small-voiced replies.

Its plains stretch in bold measure,

its cliffs stand as if carved for display,

 

its waters strike bright against morning.

 

Nowhere here to hide;

ever between waits'

beyond queueing.

Everything arrives with force.

 

 

 

 

 

.

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