Being There
By p._anara
Sun, 12 Sep 2004
- 499 reads
Being There
They hurried away,
the little black adders
writhing in decisive action
from the heat source that was
a tar-seeping sleeper
and the sun,
but a friend.
Slippery underfoot
in summer
rain showers,
damp autumn leaf mould,
harsh winter frost
that punished,
a springtime
that promised friendship
Sleepy rhines tainted
by man.
The new-born lamb's final resting place,
much more than nature intended.
Would you ever have known?
Or cared?
If I hadn't been there.
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