![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSiJoUa0VX5_ZlEsLE60xy1pH7eBKUbg3JAmvpRPI380eTorjWKNW79FsgT0_k0gNvvooFV5j-rLqlyRhDuxdjyMp7E7Pp-I1RZbOH02I4O7el7duBxht_Wce1x_hhwfX_tOYyylnf45Y/s400/GreenAbstract.jpg)
They lie
under stars in a field.
They lie under rain in a field.
Under sun.
Some people
are like this as well—
like a painting
hidden beneath another painting.
An unexpected weight
the sign of their ripeness.
Jane Hirshfield
Posted over on Applehouse Poetry
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