poetry

I close my eyes and see it still
The glowing water, neon leaves;
In shadows, ghosts of Arapaima
Weave among the tendrils.
I find a space beneath the roots,
The mystic water’s copper smell
Reminds me of a hope
And makes me comfortably fear.
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about the writer

Marin lives in Milwaukee, Wisconsin with their wife and 2 cats.
This year may be hard, but summer will come and the peach tree in the backyard will bear fruit. When it does, the fruit will be gathered and shared with close friends. These are the things that are important.