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slow

I wait

I wonder why

the life

blood

has stopped

flowing from my

hands

I am a sapling in winter

stunted

frozen

brittle

I miss this

the photosynthesis

the static whisper

between paper

and finger

smudges

scorches

come spring

come forth

and I am a tree

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Published: Aug 1, 2014
LinesWords: 2146

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slow - Hello Poetry