The Missings of a City Girl

Give me:
the quiet
whispers of a stream,
the rumble
of thunder over pine trees,
the lack there of
of time passing,
and the rhythmic motion
of a rocking chair,
on a porch,
creaking.

Give me:
the uneasiness
of a consuming darkness,
the stillness
of birds chirping and coyotes howling,
and the time to think.

To hear my thoughts,
touch my dreams,
and make plans.

Give me a place to be
a small, uneasy, childlike entrepreneur.
Give me.

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