She dwells in
her own country
Her borders are narrow
Guarded by tall trees
an oasis
where flowers bloom
Woodland creatures are
the company she keeps
Birds sing for her
on misty mornings
and again as dusk
descends
She is the human
population of one
If there are enemies
she doesn’t know of them
There is no famine
Her country is not
threatened or
coveted
Her’s is a free
country
The eye
of the
hurricane
Ellecee
Day 14 - NaPoWriMo 2024
Prompt “borders” from
TP_Poetry
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