1. Off the coast, the water is sort of icky.
Past the sandbar where clams glisten like garbage bags, the water drags itself away from the shore in mossy eddies.
2. The skunk looks into the trash can.
The striped stinkbomb crunched through last week's strewn waste.
3. The big monument bothers the people in the city.
Our Robert E. Lee hawkishly stares down the North while we all skirt around him, avoiding his stained pedestal.
4. Ice moves out of the bay very slowly.
With encroaching spring, the ice drags its feet through the water.
5. I looked through a bunch of stuff and saw the river there.
Past streets lined with wrought iron railings, loafing locals, and softly broken laughter, I watched the mousy churning of our river.
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