HAVE WE?
Have we yet marked the end of our days with a
pleasure of mayhem and haze - the thin, leftover
smokes of fun and passion and frolic and zest?
No, not yet; for there are so many more before
us : I scale high the Monsey hilltop, I look for
the boards on the ledge. This overlook is
called scenic, by some, by this ridiculous
Parks Service sign, by the last fool who
looked out in his time. I myself now
see nothing much at all except the
shadows of a dark deep past : That
Inness landscape, the trestle-train
slowly seen smoking its way over
the fair and distant ridge; those
Delaware River rocks, high and
mighty, still so far above
our heads.
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