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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