Thank you, Anni. Maybe I'm a masochist because I do like making things difficult for myself. I considered rhyming each line as well, but that was a bridge too far. Perhaps next time...
Up the creek,
where the trees clasp hands above,
their littered leaves staining the waters
dark and dappled in the scattered light,
the air cool on the brow,
damp from bright summer outside,
there in the secret places
up the creek.
Line count: 8
Free verse
For Express It In Eight, 03.07.22
Prompt: Up the creek.
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