Right now, I am going on a journey
To the kind voice.
In cold pools, below gray sands,
I want to drink.
A lazy girl laughs at me.
The moon lets itself fall into the dark pines.
I think of that strange star
At the center of a pine twig.
Animals are very quiet
As they follow solitary people down paths.
I lie back in the grass, shameless,
And surrender to that voice.
My bare forearms are wet
With dew.
A Lazy Poem on Saturday Evening
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