Saturday, May 25, 2013

Train to Sendai

Of all the patterns spilt in red
the fingerprint catches my eye
wandering its labyrinth of identity
in the middle a mustard seed mystery
who am I to be sprouting here this year
but really I was sown over 23 years ago
yeah back before I knew what numbers were
and mustard too

This poem was written with my wife, Jenny, as we rode a train to Sendai, Japan. We took turns writing the lines. 

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