Contributed by Jake Heckman
You can find me there
At the church yard near
Where the dew bells are ringing.
We can leave from there
To the damp nosed dear
Where trees wave, fingers greeting.
An oil leak,
An ink spill,
A winning streak,
A buzz kill.
The flowers grow more where we will go.
The sweat stains and pain
The hot flashing rain
Where shelter forms are brewing.
Finish and furnish,
Live it and learn it,
The flesh is wilt, subduing.
An apple core,
An ill wing
A golden pour,
A love ring.
The flowers grow more where we will go.
This piece of literary work was contributed for our Creative section.
If you would like to contribute your work, e-mail us at gargoyle@flagler.edu.
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