Upon the Marsh


We walked atop twelve thousands years

Each metered strata rich with toil,

Beyond the streets that nurse our fears

We breathed the air time could not spoil.


While deeper down the past was trod

Each step on step we moved on by,

And too uncaring of the sod

Raised up our gaze to fragile sky.


And as that thinning blister yields

Might we pay heed upon the Land?

That those to come will know these fields

Still full of Life and not of Sand


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