familiarity can be a callous
familiarity can be a callous,
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH9558klziqYA5NzVaiXEBmNhSHKotNKbPaeEfiMlXMkhjyNTAIpr4VBz3Q7l-tdnAdnO6oORdSRwpYdJt1S5A9_Golc3Hm8NiDGoiTQliVOsiaDRsXSqLl6UqfCwRuLNXy0q8p69epLQ/s320/LeConte+from+ob+deck.jpg)
I need time away from places I love
so that I can return and feel the place as new,
time and time again,
people who know me some
guess I will retire to the Smokies,
and that might be true,
I doubt it, though,
for I feel I never want
to take those mountains for granted,
their music could become but a pleasant background,
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH-7yzg33JumklEmcnijFDcdW5BpAZgC3fn-vHMF5XT2vh0TqqSZ-g_E26Ac643v9JHrwz_IGhr8K7yRQcwfEAFsdhqVBuHfoVSbVoYSlGjy4BQynbtJuwfWBUd3FF1tOI_gcc9q8EXfU/s320/pulpit+&+laurel.jpg)
I do like to know the tune
but not to hear it enough
to grow tired of it.
by Henry H. Walker
September 14, ’12
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