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I want to live among the pines.
I want to breathe minty air,
drink from cold clear streams,
hunt and fish and hear the thud
of my axe on crisp wood. I want
to watch snow pile up on tree tops,
smoke meats for days, grow string beans
and carrots and lettuce, watch time
flow past like molasses. I want to see
my dogs smiling each morning against
the orange backdrop of dawn. I want
to hear the roaring waters, feel the whistling wind,
and find myself in the middle of it all,
content as a smail.
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