I missed the turn a few times before I learned
Where the gravel road's hidden, leading up to the clearing
Like a mosaic of places, bluegrass and onion grass border the pond
Pushed against the wooded trails, tamped leaves
The only clue anyone's been here in years
Past the gravel, the pond, the soft grass
Under the sweetgums and oaks,
The air's something different, cooler and faster
Rushing like the river, throbbing against the clay
The motion like an underground heartbeat
Walk along the river far enough,
The grass slowly gets longer, until it's all wild daisies
The light gets dimmer, like a photograph
A heron hiding under cold falling water spotted me
Hope he doesn't say a word, hope they never find this place
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