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On the side of a hill in the deep forest green, tracing a sparrow on snow-crested ground,
blankets and bedclothes the child of the mountain sleeps unaware of the clarion call.
On the side of a hill, a sprinkling of leaves washes the grave with silvery tears,
a soldier cleans and polishes a gun.
War bellows, blazing in scarlet battalions, generals order their soldiers to kill
and to fight for a cause they've long ago forgotten

Sunday, December 30, 2007

Hey Look

All around good guy and commenter tangentalist Nathan has got himself a blog. Cool.

2 comments:

Nathan said...

Oooooh! I got pimped. Yeeha!

Steve Buchheit said...

I'm sure I'm not the only one.