From the window of an airplane, I look down on the ochre expanse of western North America. At first, the vastness looks uninhabited, but gradually an intricate circuit board pattern emerges, ...
And visit only where I liked, And no man visit me, I’d soar above the verdant hills, In search of hidden glades, Where sunlight filters through the trees, And dances in the shades. The breeze would be ...
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