1 poem or story a day. Nothing more, nothing less. Most bad, maybe one good. Dog bless.
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Forest
A forest of trees
Trunks going skyward
Green fingers soaking up the sun
Roots going down
Searching for an anchor
Searching for sustenance
A base to grow upon
A sky to strive for
Making this forest of trees
No different than you and me
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