Winding through
hills of Lake Country,
I wake and drowsily
look out a window -
apple trees ripple from
the highway's headboard,
two arms of dawn
rest on white linens,
here is my old bed
signaling home.
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Winding through hills of Lake Country, I wake and drowsily look out a window - apple trees ripple from the highway's headboard, two arms of dawn rest on white linens, here is my old bed signaling home. A contest entry
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