Treasure Island

M.J. Dura


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Obscured By Branches

It's where you want to be.
Holding hands,
Making happy faces with the clouds,
And whispering to the trees all around you.
Like nature we are.
Together embodied,
Like pieces of Walden forced into a box
And carried home by a small child.
Mind like paper; easily folded.

[Hata Bildir]