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Nov 2018
In the bend of the brook

my mind sinks away
between sun spots of gliding
water and suspended shades

of green. Nothing is floating
against the current. Under
the water level, I feel

space for secrets
shelters of what
will be the future, maybe

My friends light candles
and will talk on the way back
about the boys on the benches

but I prefer to sit quietly
under the sacred oak trees
in the bend of the brook
Chapel the Sacred Oak on the Beerze
(in 1400 the statue of Mary was stolen from the oak, but it drifted back upstream)

Collection β€œWebgarden”
Zywa
Written by
Zywa
95
 
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