I sat there next to the bubbling brook
The low rumble of a waterfall behind me
And for a moment
found my nose filled strangely
With the scent of salt, the sea
As though this water knew it's destination
It's unceasing goal which the water will reach,
But the brook, the waterfall never will.
YOU ARE READING
poetic mistakes
Poetryjust my musings Feel free to leave comments or whatever but don't expect me to do anything about it. This is just a place I put what I write
