There, in the bush

There, in the bush
At the hill
Under leaves
Was,
On this blue
And often hazy day,

A soft reflection of you.
Memories of the times
(few of them ever knew)
A slender subtle line.

A curved, not bumpy rock
Apparently not hard.
It came as quite a shock
To find the grain so sharp.

So, there, in that second,
While it lasted
In its warmth,
I,
At that moment
Loved you.

 

 

 

Copyright, Doug Stuber, 1975.  Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given, and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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