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Daughter of the Wild

By: Piet Rampai

She loves the forest

Where the grants stand guard protecting her,

Shielding her from the world of busy streets

And pollution

She knows lightning bugs are flying down to volt

Gently she captures them in a ball mason jar

Temporarily holding starlight.

Pixies emerged when her exhales send them flying

From the dandelion stalk,

Floating free in the field of lavender.

The only blades in this place are the ones 

That tickles her toes as she dances below the weepy willow,

That will never judge her tears.

The babbling brook tells her tales

Of the deep cerulean sea,

Where it long to be salty to the tongue,

But free to roam in the sunset. 

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