Stine Writing and Miniatures

The Sunday Whirl

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Quiet Strength

She shouldered the burden but laughed at the dawn
With arms stretched wide as mists rose off the lake
She had no fear of what was to come or what would appear again
So she awoke with a blur, feeling life from her head to the tips of her toes
Knowing she had the strength to conquer even the quiet demons that whirred around her.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

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