I have the Artist set of magnetic poetry on my fridge and every time I clean my fridge, I end up wasting an expanse of time rearranging the words. Like much of my simple life, sentimentality reigns as king of my fridge poetry.
This week's scrubbing revealed a bullet point list of personal reflection.
i
picture green
perform a bold rhythm
investigate His original approach
throw metaphors of grace
live a firey young expirament.
Hey, at least my fridge is clean!
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