When my #home is damaged. When the land is impoverished.

In the previous entry I posted a draft of a poem about despair on our lack of limits. This entry includes a revision. Last year, close my childhood home, yet another patch of woodland was cut to put in a new “development” of apartments and townhouses. More of the same things encroaching on diminishing beauty. It … More When my #home is damaged. When the land is impoverished.