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and the path propels me


Notes

on this under-trodden grain
I trample through my sleeping mind --
ah, vexing mind,
of the kind, that keeps my eyes
agape at night.
on this pressed and pondered trail
I step across worms of doubt,
worms that sprout
between my toes and keep my feet
confused and cold.

but walking is its own therapy,
and the path
propels me.

Read my poetry at: https://stellularscribe.com/


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