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daisy poems Poems

November as a mountain

what if November was 

this Everest thing

waiting to be conquered

a wasteland of frozen forever 

something unreal, dark?

then those men were right 

to prod at frozen lakes

to conquer it for the sake of it

in 1929 or anytime – 

little men exhausting large expanses 

of a dark heaven because it’s there

to conquer

to get over