the sieve and the sand

Leaving the wheat with the chaff. This is not your mother's poetry blog.

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growth

and he grew

poetry

and grew
until he was unrecognizable,
and even more so to himself,
doing things never before conceived
just six months before,
becoming something new
with every passing day,
unsure of what he would be;
surprisingly unconcerned.

April 4, 2011 Jared Abraham Tagged growth Leave a comment
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