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My Bastille

A river ran through our yards
Keeping us constantly close
As we spent summer afternoons
Dangling our feet down,
Towards its shallow current

It whispered back to us, our childhood
We always grew up in woods
A thicket of branches, kept
As a secret fortress for, only our eyes

We met at different ends of the brook
Conjoined by a sequence of skipping stones
That carried our bare feet to and from
The busy grasp of reality

No other backyard I had seen
Had a mossy fortress such as this
A princess and a queen
That ruled by their own accord

No other town I had seen
Had this raging brook
That came in the summer
And disappeared as the cold came

No other girl
Heard the whisper
Of my childhood

No other girl
Heard the rush
As it passed me by

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