Fancy that the Concord River spreads a milling water thru the trees and now and then, increasing worthwhile shoes. The strategy of the Shawsheen embellishes small flood plains where people stiffen. Further west, remember, the Sudbury and the Assabet flirt with numbers then meet the Concord. The Concord, turned north for pleasure and empowered by the will of cycled response, finds the Merrimack and willing. The sea could be the only rejoinder. In other ways the land stores human production and beginning. The mills of Lowell make great possible planets for aliens. Original awesome works down to abrupt stoppage, like union dues, only spoiling for fight. A folk song of three verses will contain everything needed to expel that mendicancy. Trees start with oak, then diversify to apple. Oranges are unheard of, palms repeat blurry phrases about time. Maples testify rashly, like we care. Everything else is contained in something else. Fox stay back, coyote feed. That porcupine you met is ...
poems, fireflies...