I can no longer just go with the flow.
I have fallen out of favor
with the moon.
Her red tides
no longer swell
my watery tissues.
But my DNA
slides back in time
to all the ancient grandmothers
then changes course
wends forward
to tomorrow's unborn children.
Now, more solid state
than fluid, in flux,
I drift forward
gently,
gently,
gently,
down the stream.
Prompt Subject: Your Favorite Cliché
Word(s) to use: use the cliché you pick (please make bold so I can find it)
Word(s) not to use: [none]
Other requirements/restrictions: Make it interesting - any subject!
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