Who is it walks
these infant roads?
Is it the green orphan
or orphan green?
Those blissless eyes,
what have they seen?
Unrelenting, sterile prairies
and remorseless, bitter crags.
Cities within globes of rain
and cities without agency.
Hey, green orphan,
orphan green,
whoever wavers up the way,
what have those blissless,
bludgeoned eyes seen
yesterday, tomorrow, and today?
-r. miller