Moss (an acrostic poem)

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Maybe the rolling stone wasn’t that great after all

Only by finding a quiet, still place can you put down some roots

Soul-nourishing peace grounding away the pent-up anxious energy

Soaking in patience waiting for the right stone to come

Drop (an acrostic poem)

 

Didn’t think the fall would be that bad

Rolling to a stop that hard

Or finding pieces of yourself scattered across the pavement

Perhaps that’s why it takes something special to be a rain…

 

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