ς…………

 

I like the way
Distant trees wave
From arching hills.
They’re a crowd
Of well-wishers
As I shave my head
By the stream.

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I like the way
Old gum leaves rot
In beds of water.
They soap up
Stains of sweat
As I soak my robes
In the pond.

I like the way
Evening clouds meet
‘Round retired sun.
They hold the warmth
In darkened skies
As I lay my head
On the ground.

I like the way
Little stones poke
Into bare feet.
They wake up
Flagging vigilance
As I journey
To lonely seat.

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