A few spare saplings
A rocky cairn
Water dripping from a 44
Truckies stopping day or night
Replenish that vital supply
May crack a can
A few quiet words to their old mate
None stay, bit shy to camp
Perhaps a few too many brews
Wake up fresh, seems all right.
Next trip replace that trickle line
A long hot summer would knock ’em back.
Shadin a lone grave
On a lonely track.
—
If you like my poems . . .
Consider buyin’ my yarn “The Ute”
Less than 5 bucks for Kindle.
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