.
Go to the old roads, the narrow pavements
That run beside the creeks
Top the ridges of the hills and drop and glide as
The world opens into great bowls of green
Of meadow and forest.
Where some little rill runs down a mountainside
And into the wide stream
Listen to it rush
.
Deer bound away and in the water
Some Great Blue Heron wades
Head cocked sideways
Waiting for a silver minnow
Muskrats work the deep holes
Leaving trails of mud in the clear water
.
Here and there cattle loll and stare
And ground is broken for new fences
And the delivery and utility trucks
Are the only traffic.
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