the sieve and the sand

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

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thoreau

your backwards glasses

poetry

I sat here to live unwittingly
to front only the inessential whims of my ego
and see if i could not waste away,
and,
when i came to die,
discover that i had lived.

April 26, 2010 David X. Hugo Tagged backwards, thoreau, you 1 Comment
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