by the lift and fall of the swells in the crowns
I sit on the cabin porch and rock,
chances are if I meet another man on the path home
he will be generous and kind
chances are if I build a fire in the stove and read by candlelight
my evening will be peaceful and warm
and if i have forgotten to turn off the phone
and answer the tone on a whim and am asked
Is our country headed in the right direction?
I shall say, Are we not circling our star,
One in the four-hundred billion?
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