On to day 6. Happy to still be keeping up with this. Today is a variation of an "acrostic poem" (usually written so that the first letter of each line spells a word) where in this case, the first word of each line should compose a phrase, or perhaps a line of poetry or other writing.
_________________________________________________I'm certain this could have gone better.
A minor setback, then another, as when
leaf after leaf pluck themselves from safety
on a rippling plunge through snapped air,
the piles waiting as graveyards down below.
Wind would have carried us more safely -
watch the currents shepherd their flocks,
how gently they come to rest after the fall.
I think, instead, we've been disposed to ill-fate...
Soar but once, and then rot beneath the snow.
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