A.M. Ream Poetry · February 2016 · Poetry

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Sometimes thinking is easier.

Or even writing.

Talking about things is hard.

It’s like digging up a grave.

Or pulling a tooth.

Or dominoes

crashing down

one after the other.

But there are times

when it’s necessary,

no matter how painful.

For even after a forest fire,

there is regrowth.

And after the dead

of winter,

life begins again.

 

–February 19, 2016

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