by Molly Lay

Genesis 1
When do small things
speak loudly?
Is there such a thing as
gentle strength?
Sometimes I can hear an acorn sing
beneath a tree ten feet away
as if I’m right beside it
rocks, twigs, seashells
calling to me
Not every single one
each as different as the person who
hears them.
Belting heartfelt ballads
Or whispering tender secrets
waiting. Just waiting.
To be found.
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