Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Sentimental Perhaps


Like pieces of a puzzle
Put together over a lifetime
Or ages
Finding one part to fit together
At times jumbled, disjointed
Then moving on to the next
Or going pack to an unfinished spot
Ten years ago.
Evolving slowly
At a unique pace
In a singular method
Like the child who stops always
To smell the flowers
But who understands the roots
Of intricate beauty
And need not draw and label them
In a school book.
For they are who they are
Those children
Piecing together their adult lives
As if they should have known.

1 comment:

sinceresimplicity said...
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