As a child, the 80 acres seemed like the whole world, with its ponds and streams and sunlit meadows.
It looked like Eden to my young eyes.
I chased the lambs and dragonflies, caught tortoises and toads.
The banks of the streams looked like cliffs to me, as I watched the suspended shadows of the bluegill in the water below.
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Lonely? With poetry by your side, how can you be lonely, dear poet?