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Abigail Ella Feb 2014
Inevitably we will erode,
but for now, smooth and unfeeling
you lie beneath my feet
as I rock-hop across rapids
and the current threatens to
topple me into icy riffles.
you sit with a thousand of your brethren,
who though now solid
will soon enough return to sand,
and I will wade away,
forgetting I ever felt you on my heels.

— The End —