Fields green and fresh...nature is ever at work.
Slender stalks of growing things.
A sky overhead, the good earth below.
Far away...no street sounds, no smog, no campus riots.
Nothing to remind you of the present, past or future, except for the now and then sounds of a bullet passing close overhead on its way to a target.
How I long for home.

John Fox
Quang Tri 2/18/71



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