MY TOWN:

Thin and frail
vernors in hand;
my children leave
for stronger folks;
those who stay
know my charm;
with tears of joy
streaming down
I teach them to fish;
My white hair full
it blows in the wind
as we race snowmobiles;
Some think I’m perfect
that I can do no wrong
but I have my sins
just like stronger folks;
If you stay you’ll know
the simple joys are where
sweet nature shows
its friendly face.

by Kima Prince

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