Oh when the saints tread tenderly flora & foliage are abundant so the pain with bird song is not seen with the lessening of in my eyes human traffic bury me here go marching in & laugh in the face of the wind & come back next year bring me the face somewhere over the rainbow when will we return? of the grateful dead i wanna be & i will sow skies are blue the flora of tomorrow will the deserts be green again amongst that number as when homo erectus trecked through them? once in a lullaby what did they seek freedom? before confusion & the babble of tongues when the saints go marching in
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Robin Ouzman Hislop is Editor of Poetry Life and Times at Artvilla.com . You may visit Aquillrelle.com/Author Robin Ouzman Hislop about author. See Robin performing his work Performance (University of Leeds)