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Tuesday, January 22, 2013

I Write

I write with renegade fat first-grade pencils
While the laundry waits.
Catching the words from my mind before they are
Folded away.
I write with remnants of red crayon
Rescued from the broom
As the dustpan beckons.
I write with pointless pencils
To keep sharp words
From cutting me inside.
I write on scraps
Recycled from third-grade homework 
To write words
Recycled in my mind.
I write to remember
Who I am and to
Record who I am becoming.

Originally published in Yankee Magazine, January 2000

1 comment:

  1. This is beautifully said. I hope you will keep on with your blog since you have such a gift for it!


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