Missoula

This pathway has led me into

Songs of birds and moves of squirrels

Quiet conversations among trees, winds and the sun

I cannot explain how the black patches

Of what I don’t know what

On the brief curious view from

The window of the airplane

Turns into forests of beautiful pine trees here and there

It is summer

And the sun likes to see

How He can bake the buildings and my skin

But the cold night always tries

To whisper in my ears that she’s always there

Proud young people in roaring racing cars

Walking thick-bellies with burgers and Coke at hands

This little town is no exception

From the enchanting magic of capitalism

But…

It would be the nearest place

To the Life and the Nature

I have ever been offered

​ – Aung​

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