Deciduous as may be, poplars maintain a cheerful temperament. Rooted in the present, they remain unafflicted by wanderlust. For poplars, a day in the sun soothes like a day at a dance. Music trembles in the beak of singing bird. When bud break occurs and lush leaves appear, man, it's like the song of a docent. Poplars always present a pleasant aspect. Just as it does with you, the bark of poplars becomes darker and rougher with age. No prob! Life fills to the brim. Plucky birds find niches in the verdure. Stomata openings trade carbon dioxide for oxygen while chlorophyll presents an aspect of green freshness. Attitude counts. Life is short , or long on shortness. Someday, everything becomes today. Spreading roots and branches supply the needed picture. You are your neighbour’s tree.
The work becomes chiding of sunlight. The work is elegy and shaded. The principle ciphers as a god, in the way transience is purpose. Transience works this brief, ending fields, making trees concern. The hell of halting midway identifies the work of burning thru. Forever makes a sign. Sign makes worthy. Indeed the tramp of feet forward concludes any sentences but suggests more. Long sentences, stupid words. The caroling heard by Dante, brilliantine remorse for a better tide. The long road up from down, and turned around. The work then becomes the work now, as stained glass similitude. Anxious in the class structure of catastrophe, the baying song over all. Nothing to do but be done. Ruskin gave you papers to remind you. Slow battering concedes the earth in time. Time being functional and oblique. The worker inside sees the nation by exhalation. Transitive connection sports of culture. The class that ends becomes the class that begins, both left and right.
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