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I Live by Amy Schneiderbeck

Writer's picture: Writers In The MountainsWriters In The Mountains

Born again and again until I live.

My familiar face reflects time changing.

Tired fragments of me fall through life’s sieve.


Strained elastic parts in me try to give.

Needle and thread can’t darn soul estranging.

Born again and again until I live.


Old friend gone too soon, bare space, I outlive.

Hard rain woke me and kept me from ranging.

Tired fragments of me fall through life’s sieve.


Shards of me gather, fuse transformative.

Collect myself, burst glass rearranging.

Born again and again until I live.


Stained glass lit within, gleems restorative.

Perpetual light’s ever unchanging.

Tired fragments of me fall through life’s sieve.


Closed chapters pass, I choose not to relive.

Allow them to stay, no more arranging.

Born again and again until I live.

Tired fragments of me fall through life’s sieve.


From Poetry Forms class with William Duke

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