Sunday, June 26, 2016

Cursive

The earliest memory
of a poem that I have is
from when I didn't know
too many words.
And so, I wrote
in meticulous cursive
what I could about
life and death and people.
It made me feel better
than a evening full of
unhindered play.
Not much has changed.
Except that I now know
a few more words.

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