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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=397063" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>El Dorado</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=397063" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The half-lit wilting and leafless white Birch<br>against the pink and gray Pinatubo sunset, <br>their fragile contrast to the skyline like haggard wraiths.<br>We sit on a cement bench on the shore of the artificial lake<br>made of gunite and filled with reclaimed water, <br>pitching choclate raisins at mud hens.<br>Watching them tip on end to<br>retrieve the morsels in the dark slurry.<br>There is a constant sound of rushing water in the distance, <br>as if the cement river of the San Gabriel, <br>became confused with the roar<br>of the river grade freeway.<br>Wandering out we came upon the perfect circle<br>of brown and tan goose feathers, laid like a wreath<br>or a fairy circle.<br>The content of this symmetry fed a hungry predator.<br>This thing construed to provide illusion.<br>This stand of planted trees and sewer streams<br>can’t in its failing exhibition, <br>replace the wild and natural country <br>which was once El Dorado.<br>It can only convince you for a while.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=George+Murdock">George Murdock</a></strong></div>