My Perfect Place

February 27, 2010
I stepped into the small green clearing,
my clearing,
a space full of flowers and grass
with a crooked blue creek
running along its border.
A place where I could be alone
and still feel surrounded by the birds singing,
the crickets humming,
and the wind dancing through my hair.
I fall onto my back and lay tenderly in the tall grass,
stroking the long reeds glistening with dew,
listening to the music of the small green clearing,
my clearing,
and knowing at last,
I’m home.





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