I'd like to run away,
To no place at all.
With no special sights,
With no place to go.
With nothing to do,
Just endless grass paths,
And breezy birch air,
With a broad river pass.
I desire no luxury,
No dresses,
No wealth,
No gourmet feast,
Not endless health.
What I yearn for most,
For some, is wholly mundane,
For others absurd,
For most is insane.
A simple three words,
Uttered under the rain,
From his lone voice,
Without a hint of refrain.
Jane Karetny
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