A little slice of Humboldt heaven
Where I took refuge from sudden showers,
Pushing my borrowed blue bicycle
Into the dark high-raftered dairy barn.
A soft sheen of rain
Played on the tin roof
As I stroked the moon-eyed pokeys
In the close pens-
Then the sun broke through
And all the wet pebbles shone
Back to the road
Glistening like the first day of the world,
And I was on my way.
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