Slow roasted,
the beets
become tender,
sweet,
how I long
to do the same
to these hard,
red thoughts.
September 3, 2018 by Rosemerry
Slow roasted,
the beets
become tender,
sweet,
how I long
to do the same
to these hard,
red thoughts.
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged beets, poem, poetry, thoughts, transformation | Leave a Comment
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