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Here you will find the writings of the poet Theodore Waterfield

Road Repair

They are paving my street,
pathway for machines and feet.
In a few days there will be
a parade,
our country’s freedom day.
Floats and clowns,
pretty girls,
and overweight dignitaries
sitting in cars.

What would happen if the
world were empty?
The street left to itself?
An occasional animal darting across.
How long would it stay?
How many years
to cover up our faults?
To obscure the signature
of a city?

How long does life last?
As memories fade,
letters lost,
clothes thrown away,
and wonder disappears,
the remnants of ourselves
succumb to neglect.
Will our parade
speed through the cosmos
with our souls,
or time itself get tired
and forget?

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