Burried in Carthage, back in the woods a bit
behind the "vietnamese"
lives a little oasis
a little miniature botanical garden
we have all to ourselves
with a coy pond full of every shade of orange and yellow a box of crayons has to offer
we ride our bikes the half mile it takes to get there
with bread in hand
and we feed the fish and bask in the sun
our little hidden gem
that feels like, for just a moment, that little has changed in our lives the past year
and it is just us, taking in the world around us
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