on being


If I could be true

If I could be the bluest blue and still be the truest true

I could live in the middle somewhere

where sea water hazes with horizon line

there is where I could be

I could sleep on hot desert sandstone

Could melt with the silver wax of sage brush

and tickle my insides with tough cactus

Could twirl inside of the tumbleweeds

rolling across highways of memories

To where the greens and the blues become Earthen hues

the truest of true

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