These are quiet places
of the heart
Not to be questioned:
The joy of June days
Before the oppressive heat.
The river is quiet now,
Shallow with exposed rocks.
Bees buzz
And threaten the table
Then find another place
To drowse in noon’s sun.
One white bird
swoops down to a dappled river,
hesitates, then flies away
Leaving this day to us.
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