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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=567711" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>One Blue Buffalo (Sestina)</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Snow swirled and blew over the plain<br>the minutes melted into hours<br>the frosted buffalo stood still<br>solid against the breath of time<br>it faced life and death with scotch<br>colored eyes, affected by nothing and no one</div><div style="margin:10px 0">each winter struggle the buffalo won<br>illustrated mastery of blue sky and plain—<br>wicked winds and flying ice could not scotch<br>survival that desperately depended on each hour<br>it was the buffalo’s time—the natives’ time<br>and without hesitation it remained still</div><div style="margin:10px 0">history remembers lost time, still<br>it is accepted by most and accurate to no one<br>misrepresentations are drawn by this time—<br>what happened on the buffalo’s plain<br>or in the blue of each pond, each hour<br>history changes—reality is scotched</div><div style="margin:10px 0">wicked truths, told through fifths of Scotch<br>through the gaze of the present hold time still, <br>moments disregard the buffalo to becomes ours, <br>the blue past of many is unwillingly chained to one—<br>ancient sunsets over purple and yellow plains<br>are prisoners of industry, technology, history and time</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>ancient senses remain unaffected by lavender, sage or thyme<br>they cannot revive what books have done to scotch<br>the blue buffalo that dotted the wicked plain<br>the petrified past is bound to remain still, <br>years, days, faces, herds, species become one—<br>books have the inability to retrieve a single hour</div><div style="margin:10px 0">or a history that is the buffalo’s, the natives’, ours<br>when books are replaced by computers, in time, <br>history will be reborn, all of our days will become one<br>technology will distort this time, scotch<br>our truths, a hundred thousand sunsets will remain still<br>billions of blue lives will paint a picture that’s plain</div><div style="margin:10px 0">our truths and a past we’ll never know become scotched<br>time is irrelevant when lives mesh to singular sights—everything’s still<br>one blue buffalo stands on a museum wall in the whirl of winter winds, silent against time’s plain</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Jane+L.+Carman">Jane L. Carman</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=567711" data-title="One Blue Buffalo (Sestina) de Jane L. Carman" data-description="Snow swirled and blew over the plain
the minutes melted into hours
the frosted buffalo stood still
solid against the breath of time
it faced life and death with scotch
colored eyes, affected by nothing and no one

each winter struggle the buffalo ..."></div>
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