THAT'S HOW ERAS END
Many were the years of the
norm : taking hold and higher
precedence, like moonlight
over a shallow canyon. In
such places and engagements,
people stood. Not, I'd think,
waiting simply for the mailman!
Instead, the bugles of philosophy
called, the resounding trumpets
blared, the inklings of all deep
matter cred out for new attention.
That's how eras end, I guess.
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