Word Reeds Poem by soren Barrett
Word Reeds
The reed grew straight on the riverbank, we twisted it to weave a basket
Straight and true it bent to whatever shape we asked it
From memory's seeds grow these reeds that become a relationship's gasket
A wild willow grows straight toward the light, it takes man's mind to bend it right, weaving it into agreement's casket
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4/27/2026 2:56:48 PM # 1.0.0
