by Sydney Marchese
(Spring, TX, USA)

It ends the night
It also ends the day
It fizzes up out of my drink
It drips cold, sweet drops on heated summer days
It falls to the crunchy grass in the autumn, for little children to jump on
It is what we gather 'round on cold camping nights to make s'mores
It stalks its prey in the night with only black stripes to keep it company
It may be secondary in nature but
it cannot be overlooked

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