Big_Water

The waters of the world are
too wide and careless;
My crimes and passions alight
so softly
as to occasion not a ripple.
Would that I were back in
my small rain puddle.
The wake of my passing stretched
but a few handsbreaths,
shore to cracked shore.
Accursed inconveience or
acclaimed timeliness
of movement seldom unregarded.

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