Windward
Winding roads take me home where I belong. The closer I get, the more nostalgic I become remembering the joys and pains of youth-fishing barefoot in the lake, riding bikes with no hands, retrieving a hot, shiny penny flattened on the railroad tracks, flushing with the confusion of my first real kiss and returning home where all the clamor and activity in our lives revolved...home to the Windward then home for a visit to the Windward now our home in the country that draws us close.
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