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A Brook Trickled Easily Down
A brook trickled easily down
As poetry running unbound
And I stood on a rock
To hear the steady stream
Of foreign words gurgled.
A hazy shaft of light beamed down -
Laser-pointing through piney boughs -
And where it gently struck -
Columbine shined and teemed
The floor with emeralds.
Copyright ©
Amy Michelle Mosier
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