There, in the bush

There, in the bush
At the hill
Under leaves
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,
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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