An oyster that went to bed x-million years ago,
tucked itself into a sand-bottom, yawned (so to speak),
and woke a mile high in the Grand Canyon of the Colorado.
If I am not here for breakfast, geologize at will.
by Harriet Monroe
Flowers grow in the grass,
Baby footfalls pass
Over the fields once red,
Over the hero's head-
For Peace.
The earth, through her leafy veil,
Whispers a magic tale;
And the scholar reads in the clod