There is no one around but me
To hear the Han flow downstream
Over rocks it slips and falls
With nobody here at all
To see the tall grass sway southerly
In a counterclockwise breeze
From an eastern typhoon out at sea
It is not worth mentioning
Those bulky clouds under gossamer skies
Through azure patches reflecting my eyes
The astral realm where consciousness resides
When books of summer are left home
With muted volume on the phone
Must be my lot in life
Nature and a wife
Alone to see the way it feels
When thoughts remain still
And fulfillment is fulfilled
August 2, 2020
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Copyright © 2020 by David Barry Temple. All rights reserved
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