
I sit upon a wooden dock,
my feet hang off the end.
And at this moment, I am sure
that I don’t need a friend.
I cannot touch the water,
though my sneakers try their best.
And then I kick them off a while
and lay there for a rest.
The sky is like a bowl of cream
suspended upside down.
The peaks are whipped in such a way
they never touch the ground.
Instead, they hug the pretty tops
of such a pretty bowl.
I spend an hour on my back,
and just admire the whole.
–Sarah Torribio
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