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Writing in Nature
May 21, 2013
Cold and alone in these woods
Is the one thing i never have
Peace and quiet
Here i can think about my day
Here i can be myself
This woods are my place
no ones, but mine
From the safety of the trees
to the smell on the wind
of wild flowers growing near by
Each thing has its importance
The ground that i roam
The trees that i climb
The breese that blow by me
These woods are my place
© Stephanie X., Seekonk, MA
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