Old Ways

When the night falls

We lie here and watch the stars

As our forefathers did

Yet it is not the same.

In place of the meadow grass

There is concrete and asphalt

Making it uncomfortable

To peer into the sky like this.

And the silence of the prairie

Is replaced by city noise

Radios blaring, couples fighting

Not at all the harmony

Of the old ways.

Paul D Aronson. 2016.


5 thoughts on “Old Ways”

      1. You’re welcome! I plan to comment on your stuff more. Sorry I haven’t be able to lately, I’ve been busy with doing story reviews.

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