Posts
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there was a girl
her name began with a d and her hair curled in gold ringlets like coins
and her laugh was infectious and her smile was too
and her eyes sparkled when they caught the light. she walked
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cats
i think cats read poetry. you can tell
in the way their tails swish and how they fold their legs
all the time, probably wondering how silvery the pinecones
will look tomorrow,
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the poem in my notes app that made my best friend cry
she wasn't my first best friend but she was my first best friend. she's the most important cog in my machine, the girl i'd do anything for. i want to be her bestie forever forever.
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Jokesgiving
my family has claimed thanksgiving.
it's our holiday, you know,
the one we do the best,
and so it must be ours. we're joking,
mostly, but it's true we do thanksgiving very well
probably overdo but it's better
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golden sky at 7:05
the world is orange
and i mean orange
like a sepia photo in which your grandparents
stand stiff & silent,
unsmiling, their clothes starched
for the occasion,
Loves
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A Girl, 9:43 p.m.
She has just showered, and her hair hangs limp down her back, washed of the shampoo she waited five minutes, forehead against the cool tile wall, to rinse off. The sky is ink and charcoal, but then, it has been for hours.
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Winter's Lanterns
Winter caught my Christmas lights
and froze them into icicles—
now even the cold knows how to shine.
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The Samurai
Japan, 1863. Across the globe, the civil war rages.
I made the long walk
Across the plains,
through the village path
under the stars.
At long last, I came to the monastery
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The shape of yesterday
I used to race my shadow down the sidewalk,
thinking if I ran fast enough
I could outrun time.
Now I walk slower,
because somewhere along the way
time learned my name.
I still sit in the same car seat,
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The Big Bang
It all started with the big bang — the mighty "thwack"-ing noise that connected my body to the prickly embrace of the wood chips below. My descent from the jungle gym was far from graceful, solo mission "rescue Mr.
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The hero by my window
When I was little,
the window was a battlefield of light,
streetlights turned into stars,
and the world moved fast enough
for a hero to keep up with me.
He ran beside the car,