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written by Richard Ruane, copyright Okey Dokey Folkie Music (BMI)
“It
was in a pine wood, it was in the Black Hills,” Maggie
said, and smiled. “The
summer after high school, kids out camping, and
no one else around. And
a breeze moved the branches round, and the clouds were flying.” The
moon was out and shining, a couple days just past full, a
distant highway whined. Tourists
off to Rushmore, trucks to Rapid City, and
everything felt fine, as
she sat beneath a pine, and understood the world. Sitting
in a kitchen, Maggie and me, half a world away. Sitting
at a table, “Have a cup of tea.” Things
that strangers say. Travelers
away. A
couple kids were drinking, from a bottle of tequila, they
passed that bottle ‘round. But
Maggie had a new start, said she found a new part. She
left her little town, to
travel this world around, alone and smiling. Compelling
scenes from a stranger’s dreams, living like an island.
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