Posts
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the calendar is the only thing that doesn't care about spring
the robins outside my window don't care if it is sunny or snowing. we have passed the 20th and their wings are made of maple sugar & time.
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My True Home, Vermont
Being a Vermonter is spending six months of the year wearing a jacket.
Being a Vermonter is running outside in nothing but leggings and a sweater, thinking it’s springtime when it hits 47 degrees.
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airplane delights
Just some little sentences, quick delights, really, jotted down on a tiny reporter's notebook during a flight from Burlington to Raleigh yesterday. Enjoy and remember that the world is full of delight!
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Freedom Isn't What They Say It Is
I am eleven years old. I think freedom isn't what they say it is.
I live in the land of the free. I am free
in most ways.
I can be a black belt.
I can be a published poet.
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we are the future.
in the halls, we lean against the bulletin boards
and whisper of the latest news, last night's breaking, articles snagged
in the moments before leaving for school. lots of adults
think we are too young to understand
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pajama pants & regret
i wore brightly patterned pajama pants today
because it was blue-and-gray-go-wolves spirit week at school and
they fit the whole cartoonish hearts theme. you
wore black sweatpants and your favorite blink-182 shirt,
Loves
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To Truly Be
How do I explain
that doubled over laughter
none of us
can play volleyball but
all of us
can laugh
and s'mores
you asked me
what I was doing
I was doing
it all wrong
you said
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4
there are swans all around me
but they are blind
or i am invisible
and i don't know which
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What They Call Ghetto, We Call Home
They call it “the hood.”
We call it family.
They call it “ghetto.”
We call it culture.
It’s loud — but it’s home.
The ice cream truck rings at the same time every day.
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The Girl With Too Much Passion
Once upon a time you were the girl with too much passion.
You tried your very hardest to be in love with the world,
and it made you beautiful.
But you lost that person to love,
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Somewhere in the woods
Somewhere in the woods generations in the past, there was a person who wanted to build a life for themselves. So they bravely ventured into a land of great cedar and oak, which they thought could bear fruit all year long.
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I Am Someone Who
I am someone who is waiting on a dock in the middle of the night. There is a gross, green electric light shining on me. There is something out in the waves.