THIS POEM IS MEANT TO BE STEPPED ON- From Worzel

This poem is meant to be stepped on, Godfrey scratched it in the sand  as the tide drew near.Scent of hot pine forest and salt on the breeze. He was barefoot, sand on his knees, face to the sun. I had just made the tidal crossing. I was the one to find his poem.I stepped on it as was his request, then carried on hiking the spur, heading west.

This poem is meant to be stepped on; She  found it written in chalk on a city drain. Stepping carefully, Ginger  regarded the words, before they were lost forever before the rains came. And trod she did softly on the poem  there knowing it was Godfrey who wrote it, and where was he now?

This poem is meant to be stepped on, They found it in the grass when the Chihuahua was alive.Piecing the bits together they stood side by side. I stepped on it already she said to him as shivering on the frost he read. It was here when I came out to see the sky at dawn, with a footstep on the tattered taped up , torn out notebook page, he left it on the sidewalk, edge of their lawn. This poem is meant to be stepped on……

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