Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Standard

Through the haze on the horizon it was hard to say
If the dot in the distance was coming or going

A flat open plain, backed stately by mountains
Was mirrored by foreboding clouds in the sky

Whipping in the wind on the top of a pole
A tattered standard defiantly swayed

An oasis is gracious for those lost in the desert
Though it attracts those of all different kinds

The dot in the distance grew larger
The distance gave some time to think



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