The Good Was Always Simple

the good was always simple
to wake and work among the trees
to heal a house and grow our own
and in the evenings rest and talk
between the porch and evening blue
free from alone and its bouts of loneliness away from the world buried deep
in fear and hollow idols that clash
and break so equally mediocre
in corrected silence…

By Charles Eastland

Wordsmiths and photographers, send us your goods! MWM is now soliciting local poets and picture-takers for inclusion in Verse and View, our new reader-submitted, word-and-image series. Send your entries to

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