Let’s just skip the stones
and get dirty.
Mud pies in the face.
Bear disgrace.
Fall into place.
Wallow and weep
into each other’s eyes.
The river’s a half-peck
away from your cheek.
We’re weak,
let’s cinder sneak.
We know who we are
from where we were,
and now is now.
The Oh, Honestly
parts of us wait
in the rain,
the ripples
kissing each other
with grace.
Gerald the Writer 
Love the line,
“the ripples
kissing each other
with grace.”
Our feet of clay often run into each other, and instead of getting perturbed at the other human, we ought to be thankful that we are not alone in the struggle. Thanks Jasper.
If that comment doesn’t sound like part of a poem in the making.