October 23, 2007
By Mike Lawrence, Glassboro, NJ

I lay open on a hill of grass by a tree near a waterfall
The glow of the sun a soft white that covers all the hill and the river below the falls
The cool water glistens bright blue with the reflection of the sun
The gentle breeze sneaks across the meadow like an assassin in the night
Moving through the branches of the tree that I have made my companion
The branches sway as if my friend shivers in the breeze
As if understanding his plight I pulled my coat from my arms and hung it on a branch
There you are my friend take relief from the cold
I hold my arms
I shiver

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