The Pond

by Penelope Pressman

I walk with my feet skimming the edge of the pond I’ve seen everyday of my life
watching it with eyes that grow older each time
running alongside it on feet that gain experience each time
lifting into the sky above it my arms that gain strength each time
filling it with tears I wipe away each time
breathing out the air from my lungs to create new ripples in its surface – each time
each time I walk by the pond, the pond watches me walk by

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