Saturday Poem / Fiscal Cliff
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They elect the cheapest sort of scoundrel
to the highest office they are able to confer.
-- Thomas Wolfe
I don't remember the exact time we fell asleep,
but when we awoke, the slack water, full of itself,
was trying to explain to the fog
how much dew should settle on the white Adirondack,
while the crows were barking at the heels
of our morning glories.
First Published January 5, 2013 12:00 am