Piling
You are a piling
standing in deep blue
swelling swirling
ocean
Crisp winter morning
brings frost
and a chilling
nip from the sea
Hot summer day
sun glistening
as children play
in warm waters
Windy fall brings
a churning froth
White waves whipping
trying to tip you
Wind wails
causing you to sway
back and forth
teetering
Buried in the mud
the ground supports
the shifting
against the storm
Far from home
you recollect
the bygone days
in that grove
Here you are
skin peeled back
stripped of what
you once were
Nowhere to grow
Your roots stripped
but you stand strong
against a churning sea
I haven't written in ages and was still bad back then. Started with an idea but couldn't follow through (too many ing). Oh well it is just a free write.
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