Sunday, February 7, 2010


It was a few words
A sentence
Uttered on
The playground
Long ago at
Some early age

It stuck and
Rolled around
And around
From that
Awkward time
When your nose
Was too big
For your face

And continued
With less frequency
As somehow
Your face grew
And your nose
Rolling around
And around
In your brain
Covering itself
With layers
Of protection
From slights
Real and perceived

Until it was like
A pearl
That sentence
Like a grain of sand
That got inside
And grew to
Become a part
Of who you are