It takes a certain type of soul to live in a wooded spot,
Where neighbors are quite far away,
Not on a nearby lot.
When a shopping trip to the closest mall,
You drive for an hour or more,
Unless you settle for a shorter trip to the local country store.
It takes a certain type of soul, to love the cry of a loon,
Where the only light in your yard at night,
Is the light of the stars and moon.
Where ducks and geese and an occasional bear,
Call on you without a care,
They wander around to do as they please...
It takes a certain type of soul,
To live in the midst of the trees.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.