my body leans into it,
the warmth: starved of it,
these winter days of grey
my body reaches up to it,
the expanse: breathes again
out from under heavy skies
my body stretches into it,
the descent, the climb:
relishes the feeling of strength
my body crouches down to it,
the mirror hardly rippling
its echo of a lone cloud today
my body whispers to it,
the Moreton Bay fig and its
thick, curving branches flung wide
my body, these bodies,
remembered with presence
giving notice, to life
![mirror hardly ripples](https://www.sarahagnew.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2022/07/mirror-hardly-ripples.jpg)
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