An English In Kentucky


















October 22nd 2010    Tim Candler

        Irritating drifts kept ruffling land, so the infinite regressed  into increase of irritation.   But I saw Route 47 from its beginning point all the way to its end point.  

    Sadly though, there has been another sidetrack.  A more depressing place than South Eastern Kansas I have never seen.  Enough to make a person truly doubt the purpose of man on earth, and I think once when the ancestors first saw it Buffalo roamed.  Now it looks more like a charnel house for crops that grow in rows and even-toed ungulates that get buried in grocery aisles.  So no surprise that some of the tractors are quite beautiful.  And no surprise that graveyards figure large in the imagination of those fellow beings unfortunate enough to call this place home.


   Inevitable that I should call Eden home.  And certainly there is an abundance of Meadow Lark.  And delighted to see a White Bread Sparrow.   And no doubt an imagination would permit a soul to call somewhere other than where I live Eden.   And I say all this because when every fifth structure with more than ten windows belongs to God, a bank or a sporting activity, a heathen begins to feel vulnerable.

    Thrilled to say, tomorrow I will see Route 47 from its end point all the way back to its beginning point.  It might even be raining.

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