Window shutters clap as autumn breezes
Sing their meloncholic tunes. Gingham clad
Girls giggle gleefully
As tiny land tortoises tuck their leathery
Heads against the blasting roadside sands.

Middle America curls up nightly around glowing
Hearths, waiting patiently for coastline risk-takers
To invent magical elevators that bust ceiling
Glass as they shoot the girls skyward
Toward their dreams.


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