Song of the Goldenrod
I begin the upward climb into the cloudy mist
The earth disappears below me.
No end in sight. The ladder sways in wide arcs,
I begin the upward climb into the cloudy mist
The earth disappears below me.
No end in sight. The ladder sways in wide arcs,
These graceful ballet dancers hover
on the warm August breeze.
Orchestrations in rural fields and along roadsides
They each remember to arrive at this time every year
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