Voice of Reason
I lay at the riverbed
Scrubbing this you deem sin
I listen for your voice
The voice of reason
Sunshine kisses the mountain
Butterflies blanket its foot
And birds eye the beautiful blanket
All hunter of toil
I remember the walks I had taken
Every step I can retrace
Sand swallowed my feet
Worming my French-fry toes
The rocks I sat upon
Gazing into nothingness
Just the sense of being
Say I can work with that
Is that your voice of reason?
—James Collins
2024 nov 10
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