Gathering Moss | A Poem

Gathering Moss

the world swirls past
the hill is steep
the day is bright
and yet there is
moss gathering on
my shoulder
when did I
roll to a stop
 
 
moss in a swan planter, flowers in a planter, moss growing out of its planter
 
 
This short poem was written after I read a prompt from the #fieryverse account on Twitter.

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