the sieve and the sand

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

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speak

i hope you learn to speak words more good than your daddy

poetry

and when you breathe forth your very first words
i’ll be holding my breath in daft anticipation
gasping at the affricate proceeding from your little mouth
waiting for you to learn the beauty of words
hearing you grasp for meaning
then communication
then beauty in every syllable

August 15, 2008 Roger Mugs Tagged baby, first words, speak Leave a comment
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