For Your Favorite #5 Poetry Contest sponsored by Seth Pina
He's known to go by many names and we love to play at merry games - but just who is the screwy guy who floats in clouds up in the sky? When he sits placidly, he's called a pond. To my rock, his restful ripples respond. After we've had this little talk, he gets on his feet to take a walk, becoming a creek or a stream - and in a waking dream, an arrow is loosed from a quiver, and I'm a man and he's a river.
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