Poem again

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Fickle food
its flavors fade
and all that's left
is what weighs me down.

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This poem reminds me of The Red Wheelbarrow. Short and simple, yet speaking to a deeper meaning. I like it. Left me wondering why you felt weighed down. Nicely done.

Dear Ben,

It seems a bit like a magician explaining his tricks to write this; and perhaps you don't really want the answer--in which case this preamble should serve to chase you away before I pull back the veil.

However, all one needs to do to puzzle out your puzzlement is to think of the inevitable result of too much time at the table and too little in the realm of physical endeavor.

Thank you for writing.





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This page contains a single entry by Steven Riddle published on June 22, 2009 8:06 AM.

Rejecting Religion was the previous entry in this blog.

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