Little Ode To My Plain Mighty mulberries, once delimiting the plots, and slender poplars, once showing the way— time has not been kind to them. However, I can tell exactly where they stood, nearly one by one. Supplanted by roads, pylons, and warehouses, their presence still permeates my visions. Tidy fields— perfectly flat and harmoniously arranged, once giants to my eyes— resist, although the older I get the smaller they appear. Till they disappear. Everything looks different— banks and ditches, huts and hideouts, the little farms in the middle of nowhere— and yet, in a way, they all are today…