Category Archives: Line-a-day Poem

One line per day becomes a long poem after a year!

is rubble and blood and hate.

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of the staircase toward peace

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when all that remains

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who it was cast the first stone

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Why does it matter

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joyful steps to her future?

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one hundred and twenty-three

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how can she not take

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in snow-squall bold November:

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Such an offer, made

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They spell “Will you marry me?”

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Each orb carries one letter.

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lined with plump pumpkins.

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to the lower waterfall,

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Oak-leaf strewn, rough steps

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loses himself in colour.

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drawn to the sound of its light,

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its sole prisoner,

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Caught by a prism’s spectrum,

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He can see, can hear.

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understand what it is they hear.

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to those around him who don’t

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calls in counterpoint

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He sways to his own rhythms,

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What does the boy hear?

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His calls, a plea for something.

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a single note, at random.

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Wordless, he cries out

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He sits apart, averts his eyes.

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How to love the boy?

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