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New England Mind

 My mind matches this understand land.
Outdoors the pencilled tree, the wind-carved drift, Indoors the constant fire, the careful thrift Are facts that I accept and understand.
I have brought in red berries and green boughs- Berries of black alder, boughs of pine.
They and the sunlight on them, both are mine.
I need no florist flowers in my house.
Having lived here the years that are my best, I call it home.
I am content to stay.
I have no bird's desire to fly away.
I envy neither north, east, south, nor west.
My outer world and inner make a pair.
But would the two be always of a kind? Another latitude, another mind? Or would I be New England anywhere?

by Robert Francis
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