RETREAT
I am hidden from the humans
But the World's aware of me.
The wind teases me and tousles my hair
The sun and the stones on which I sit
Caress me with their warmth
All things glitter and beckon to me.
The birds toss out a promising note
Of songs-to-be!
The World is good, to me.
And I, to it, am important or un-
For it makes no difference.
This is reality.
Susan J. Skinner
June 1963
copyright 2011/all rights reserved
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