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Riding Thru Under the wheels, Under my feet, Pass mile upon mile Of old fields of wheat. And out of the corner No the tip of my eye, There are fields of green Just passing right by. No matter how much I have in the bank Or how much I owe On this bike I now thank The mercy of nature For the fields I see And the fertile land In the heart of me.
Amanda Mapel
VEGASMAPEL@aol.com
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