My poem
The mountain was usual enough; it had
A rocky path, a bridge, a hut , a stream
Flowing down, and even a narrow ledge that lead to a look Out I never went on. My sister, my parents and I
Did what families do- walked up together,
Made hiking sticks, looked out for each other, raced
Each other up and down, drinking and eating, puffing and Huffing, sulking and screaming.
Doing nothing important.
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