grows in me, and I wake in the middle of the night
at the least
sound, in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie
down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water ,
and the great
heron feeds. I come into the peace of wild things, who do not
lives with forethought of grief. I come into the presence of still
and I feel
above me the day-blind stars waiting for their light.
For a time, I
rest in the grace of the world and am free.
Please Come to Boston
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