Wide shoulders draped in flannel
protect fragile strength,
from the cold coming in.
Young hands so sure,
young minds so certain.
With sparse desires
they lust to shape the world.
Oh naivety!
Mother Earth has lived,
as wrinkle and callous testify,
by one known axiom:
True beauty is born in discomfort.
Nature's loveliness is latent
in tooth and claw,
in just getting by,
in flannel and the tumbleweed.
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