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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=521520" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Morning in America</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=521520" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Look down <br>and see how the valley wakes.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=521520" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Beneath these rolling ridges, <br>dark houses steam and cluster<br>into tight, thin streets, <br>the morning mist<br>softly washing <br>ranks of backyard fences<br>into spectral smudges <br>between still, red <br>autumnal trees.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=521520" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The city begins again<br>after its long, November night; <br>cars and trucks flow<br>into highways, slowly<br>edging east into west, <br>and complete at last<br>the long, twisted <br>continental path, <br>from sea<br>to trackless<br>sea</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=521520" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">rolling to the dry limit<br>of the broad Pacific<br>where no lines restrict and<br>no heights give a wider view.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=521520" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">They come at last<br>to the concrete terminus<br>of America.</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=Steven+Federle">Steven Federle</a></strong></div>

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