That Is How
The wind, she whips.
The leaves, they dance.
The gulls, they swoop.
The pups, they prance.
The clouds, they loom.
The waves, they slap.
The boats, they glide.
The birds, they flap.
The time, it ticks.
The thoughts, they flow
And that is how
A poem does grow.
Copyright © Ilene Bauer | Year Posted 2021
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