The fish swim solemnly through the gentle forest creek
silence
paper thin
and in the quiet I can think
thoughts thick as leather
a leaf
I come here only in meditation
to watch the stream become yellow with fallen leaves
spiral
neon orbs
each carry ginger thoughts upon many leaves
I stroke my mustache
smell mint
I cool the radiator of thoughts
fears and doubts I dare not put to ink
Mustache high five!
ReplyDeleteI was given a list of fifteen words and I had to use one in each line, I also had a certain number of words to use in each line. Mustache was one of those words.
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