I never did finish my P-bus poem for today. So typical of my days for weeks now, maybe I should just take some things off my calender altogether. But no, not the fun things! Here's the fragment, which on its own has a certain enigmatic quality - you'd never know the theme is to write about our lives. Perhaps I'll finish the thought for another week.
Like a rock in a stream
Water going by
Just going on by
Taking bits with it, tiny microscopic bits.
In time, worn smooth
A long time
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10 hours ago