The slip-slop
slide and slosh

the nakedness
of water-children,
Slipping school,
slipping uniform,
running classes,
casting aside
weeds of green;
cascading into
carefree clarities.
Always leave
empty handed,
a melody of waters,
by un-tuned fingers
playing
hard stops of rocks:
Where is world's end?
a gurgling grin
innocently asks.
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