AprPAD Day 6: The Rise and Spill of the Mole


There’s a river that no one’s seen,
Mole by name, apropos, blind to light,
dimmed to sight, rolling underground,
glimpsed on rare days when the moon

sways it high to rise and spill,
skimming the fields as tendril filled
tonics, and I stand here knowing
that you live deep below my feet,

silent and steady, and I touch
the soft spring grass above you
hoping that you shine your strength
and eternity on my innocent wonder.

Written for Recursion Prompt Day 6


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