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Margrett Gold
Poems
May 2015
tougher
Stone,
You don't break me
or push me into place.
The wind and I will watch you,
Run right over you.
My streams will flow from your faucet face.
I can't drown a stone,
but you'll wither away,
dry sharp sediment
coarse little grains
and the winds
will throw
you
, dust,
into decay.
Written by
Margrett Gold
moon
(moon)
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