Small Dreams

no houses
as long as a train
with places
never touch
no rooms
decorated in hues
stark and plain
no notice
of tax
that could instead
pay for college
just a cottage
wild ferns
a yard
stretching forever
alive with prairie grass
and sounds
of pleasant insects
making hay
a trail to the river
sounds of water
faint lines of lights
miles and miles away...
this too then...
a place to write
where I can see
nesting birds
just beyond
the wooden windowsill
a small spot
as plain as me
where my words
can hum
in the quiet
and where
my simple heart
is always warm....
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