I have sat in a study with a pen in my hand
Hunched at a desk staring at a bright screen
Wandered in woodlands and paced out the meadows
Stopping at benches to jot some words down
And each has yielded its own novel vision
But now, for the moment,
I park in my car and find the words flowing
Yes, some rust has caught in the pipes
But turning the tap on flushes it away
And the water is sweeter and colder afterward
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