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Sunday, August 21, 2011

In praise of the brittle star

This brittle star shines
a sleepy
bright aquamarine
and creepy
it creeps in deeper blues.
It’s much more and yet less
fragile than you
or I are blessed
to think it. Spun
with spindly arms,
it spins off tales when
they’re tried or untrue. Unharmed,
its trails aren’t lost but
slowly put
aside until
it can grow them back. It will.
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