The bush

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The world stands still as I sit and stare,

As I feel the bitter wind bite at my nose.

I can see the trees standing bare

When the cold wind comes, it frosts my toes.

Everything still, quiet without care

I watch the soft trees rustle

While I sit still, and stare

I stay still and hustle.

Here the calling birds talk to me

Here them cry and swoop.

Watch them all go to flee

I can see them do the loop.

The peace, the stillness

It cleanses me from the dark.

As we drive away in the roughness

I just don't want to leave the bush.


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