the rain has stopped for you
as you lie there gleaming white
beneath the once more ancient sun
across my wide-field of vision
and people walk all over you
like men in gulliver but still
you lay there lazy
under the strange
grey summer sky of
two thousand thirteen
our day’s trek a daze trek
daughter and son
climb the steepest
part of you while we take
the easy route up
your naked young leg
perfect for black & white art
sexy as the grains
of your worn down
washed up pristine earth
sand dune
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