At Nanga Mill – a reflection

by Melody

the distant intersecting slopes of pines

the sun through rows of tall straight trees

and heavy shadows stretching out over the ground

the smell of blooming natives-

delicate bushes of white

walking on logs over flowing water,

and later dipping our feet in – so cold!

a tiny blue wren, and then another

red, muddy roads and dense green trees

the ground’s smell of crushed pine needles

a happy dog, and two boys playing in the cold river water

a man, kayaking past – thrilled to be doing so

water, reflecting trees, holding them in a still embrace,

just as this place has held us for an afternoon.

Comments(1)

  • Anni
    November 15, 2016, 9:31 pm  Reply

    Nanga Mill! What a great place with lots of family memories. Love the thoughts in the poem…love to be there.

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