EDIFY
High atop Cayuga's waters, as that old song goes, I stood
entranced looking down - about below stood those foreign
fields of farmland to the water. A few Buddhist guys in the
pie-plate rehab shop were standing about. I often visited
here, just to see the sky and land, below and above.
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People who needed their own help would come here to
soak - stay a week or two, live clean like Buddhists. They
tried their hand at selling self-made wine and pies and cakes.
No one ever came to buy that I could see. Never knew where
anything went : purple cloaks and saffron robes, high above.
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I was emplaced by comparison to edify my own needs and
wants and - loving every moment of it - wished I'd never
leave. It was 1973, and all those Cornell hippies were still
lining up to exit, try their luck at something, to go away again.
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