We ink our paper madly,
Splotching and staining our way
To art! To brilliance! To something
More than these brittle words
Curling and uncurling like lace
On the paper, like flower stems
Twirling up wooden stakes
And fences, or sidewalk grates
Reaching for something greater
Than dirt, roots, sun
Blooming, always blooming—
Poetic little things.
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I (Megan) loved this poem from Katy. Anyone who has spent time trying "splotching and staining" their way to poetry will understand this poetic little thing. And doesn't Katy choose nice words?
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