there was a place on
the way to work – in the
days when I worked –
a country back road that
twisted and curved
a place where the trees
reached across the asphalt
to hold hands above me
a place where the sun
shone through the leaves
and made a lace pattern
for me to drive over
a place where time felt
like it had slowed down,
had taken a deep breath
where peace flowed through
the open windows and wrapped
me in its arms

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