Same and Opposite

Fingers lodge between rocks,
As dust settles in the air.

Sparkling through the particles,
The sun is half light.

At its top, the rock has warmth,
but at its base is frigid.

A scowl perches on my lips,
as giggles bounce in the chest.

Ripples patch the surface,
as fish nibble oncoming fish.

Pulling up the rock,
it is a matte grey,
with little marking individual.

Face warm,
shivers in shoulders.

Constantly, leaves rearrange,
a crow chattering into place.

A song bird sits, a ball of feathers
its opposite.

I wish I could say I was opposite,
but I’m probably the same.


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