the babbling brook—
it didn't get its name for nothingit whispers all of its secrets to me
in whispered tones
like the reeds whistling in the wind
while i sit on the rocksoccasionally the toad would come and visit
and croak out all the things he's seen in his wise years
or the dragonfly would rest on the water
and tell me stories of ex boyfriend's and bitchy best friendseventually they became my friends—
the ones that i told everything to
not a single thing that i experienced
didn't hit their ears at least oncebut one day he came
and i forgot about the babbling brook
and the frog
and even the dragonflyand one day she found them
on her morning stroll through the woods
and it whispered the secrets it has heard
through its years
just like it had once done with menever trust the babbling brook
it didn't get its name for nothing
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l o v e & n o s t a l g i a » poetry
Poetrya collection of heartbreak, childhood nostalgia, and the peaceful moments that come from simple things