Transplant

Out
Here
In
The
West,
The
Eye
Can
Rest,
In
A
Place
Where
There’s
Vast
Open
Space,
Steady
As
The
Sun,
And
One
Can
Go
On,
Dreams
More
Or
Less
Intact,
Gratified
Not
To
Go
Back
To
The
Stress
And
Strife
Of
Big
City
Life,
And
Yet,
And
Yet,
With
Just
A
Touch,
Not
Much,
Of
Urban
Regret.