Poems, Personals, and Commentary

That Nasty Stain

That nasty stain
Crept ‘cross the table.
To keep it back
I was not able.

The courage, the strength
To put at arm’s length,
Is what I lacked.

It crept along,
With no resistance,
Threatening existence.

‘Til Spirit’s rain
Came back again,
And washed it away.

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