One Spring morning when the blossoms have erupted on the apple trees, I will pack a few things, jump on my bike and start to pedal...
I'll stop for pie and Betty will pour me coffee that is hot and black and doesn't have fancy syrups added to it...
I'll wave at the cows and stop to paint soft grey pussywillows growing in the ditches along the road
Sleeping under the stars, I'll lose myself in the night sky and wake up having found myself.
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