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FEAR OF GOOGLE
by Tom Stock

Red maple leaves pile up in fall
Along a wooden fence on my western property line.
I rake them into mountainous piles,
Stuff them into bags,
Pour them in windrows for composting.
It's time-consuming and tedious.

At a monitor, I've googled.
Within two seconds,
Out tumbles a tumult of sites,
Bunched in tens,
That go on and on and on.
I begin raking, surfing, and searching
For one simple leaf
In all that pile.

 

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