That Kind of Time by Naomi Shihab Nye

Such slim distance between Clear Boggy River and Muddy Boggy River. You could stake a tent on grass, spread lunch on a blanket – cars passing quickly wouldn’t notice such moves. Sometimes for a few miles we’re on old historic Route 66 – a classic café gives it away. What if there had never been a franchise, what world would we know? So many fields by every roadside. It’s still hard to pass horses or cows without pointing them out.

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