Sylvia was raised for years in a city
and so considered it a pity
when her family moved
out, out, out to the countryside,
where rivers were her only neighbors
and rocks her only friends.
Each lonely night she dreamed
of the city she’d left, with its neon
lights blinking and beaming,
tall brick buildings
opening their dark doors,
calling her forward, seeming
to swallow her with warm mouths
and tightening throats.
But as the days went on and on,
she began to hear the countryside’s song,
and her dreams began to brighten.
One night, under the influence of stars,
Sylvia looked down at her arms
pushing a shopping cart full of pinecones.
The next night, a taxi driver, a raccoon,
drove her to a mountain, and told her to get out.
The third night, she stepped off a sidewalk
and stumbled into an icy stream.
At dawn she shook from her sleep,
surprised to find her feet dry.
Only then was she moved
by the story of Moses
on a mountain, barefoot,
and communing with God.
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