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A Midwesterner in the Desert

img_9141-1img_9144Last year I went to visit my sister in Tucson, AZ.  I had never been to the desert before.  My first hike was a solo trip into Saguaro National Park on the Sendero Esperanza trail.  The terrain seemed extraterrestrial.  I meandered from flora to fauna, paying close attention to this new world. I moved slow in the heat. I saw birds fly in and out of holes in giant cacti.  Lizards sprinted across the trail. The ground was red, covered with beautiful, sharp rocks.  Everything I passed had spikes on its ends.  The sun was unavoidable. I enjoyed the desert very much!

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Let It Be Forgotten

WINTER FIRE

“Let It Be Forgotten”

by Sarah Teasdale

Let it be forgotten, as a flower is forgotten,
   Forgotten as a fire that once was singing gold,
Let it be forgotten for ever and ever,
   Time is a kind friend, he will make us old.
  
If anyone asks, say it was forgotten
   Long and long ago,
As a flower, as a fire, as a hushed footfall
   In a long forgotten snow.

 

Sara Trevor Teasdale was born in St. Louis, Missouri, in 1884. She is the author of Love Songs (The Macmillan Company, 1917), winner of the Columbia University Poetry Society Prize (which later became the Pulitzer Prize for poetry) and the Poetry Society of America Prize. She died in 1933.