By: Bekah Turney
I dance around in playful turning tides. / You drip off petals, like early morning dew, as the sun warms the earth. / The wheel spins, grasping tight what force cannot refuse. / It’s time for you to go- / You fall to kiss the outstretched necks of grass. / Sliding down its blade, slick, / Cutting through like truth. / It’s time for you to go- / Turning rhythms dance in tune with cycle’s song, / Soaking in the crumbled soil, / Planting seeds of your own and in turn helping them to grow.
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