The babbling brook always starts somewhere bigger
full of energy and life - but polluted and stale
A tiny vein escapes, and the purification starts
Flowing swifly at first, cruising over round pebbles smoothed by the ages
Then it calms, the pollution and staleness washed away
The pebbles of the ages stand strong
A heroic wall being washed over
YOU ARE READING
Daily Weirdness
PoetryI'm going to endeavour to write some daily observations about average things that happen. We'll see how this goes!
