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Half way up a mountain top
a town with a simple name
Adequate was a nice place to stop
so that is where I came
The peak was seen so clear it seems
the valley down below
the trees so green the air was clean
with rich soil in which to grow
Because the hike was hard indeed
I rested and planted roots
strong vines and flowers from my seeds
and many different kinds of fruit.
But at long last I looked above
I saw the shining sun
I remembered once a long lost love
and dropped my plow to run
Enough became not itself
once I saw what I ate
for life was like the muffled bell
unclear and dim: in Adequate.