When Daniel Boone goes by at night
The phantom deer arise
And all lost, wild America
Is burning in their eyes.
Of all the Christbitten places in the two hemispheres, (Los Angeles) is the last curly kink in the pig's tail.
Stephen Vincent BenétLife is not lost by dying; life is lost minute by minute, day by dragging day, in all the thousand small uncaring ways.
Stephen Vincent BenétTags: ponder
It's time to walk to the cider mill
Through air like apple wine,
And watch the moon rise over the hill,
stinging and hard and fine.
It's time to bury your seed pods deep
And let them wait and be warm.
It's time to sleep the heavy sleep
That does not wake for the storm.
When the last moonshiner buys his radio,
And the last, lost, wild-rabbit of a girl
Is civilized with a mail-order dress,
Something will pass that was American
And all the movies will not bring it back.
Dreaming men are haunted men.
Stephen Vincent BenétPage 1 of 1.
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