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#1
#1
blurs of green
marbled by the droplets
dragging down the glass
brick gym sweating
under the humid rain
sliding lazily down the old shingles
reminding me of days spent
sweating by those branches
clock ticking
wanting so badly for
practice to end so legs can stop
running and
aching and
dying
sidewalks where one can sit
at the end of the year and
eat hamburgers that taste like freedom or where one
can race
heart pumping
to the old gym for events swathed in shades of
purple and white
memories of kids cheering for their team
and others wishing everyone would be silent
and listen to the hot fog outside or
the train as it breaks the cold pressure
or just the leaves
green red or bare
whispering
whispering that there is something more than this
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I wrote this on the first day of school coming back from summer this fall. It was my first class, creative writing open studio, and one of my first poems, and the words just poured out as I stared out the window.