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american sentences on writing

May 12, 2009

[as published originally at “i am maureen”]

Beauty is all around; take another look and count life’s syllables.

Look at me with your fingers; my poems rise from my freckled skin like braille.

How do I best spend my time: living my life or writing it all down?

I read your stories and write my poems; we all have something we must say.

I’ll die someday writing sentences and stanzas; it’s dangerous work.

I envy those with lives outside their notebooks but wish they’d write more down.

If my words burn down, ashes won’t be enough for God to re-build me.


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