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For the First Page of a Brand New Journal

Why should I fear to mar this empty page?

Deface it with the scratching of my pen

In the end it only yellows and decays

And with it, takes my words away again

Why do I fear to shake this brand new day?

Careful, should it break like fragile glass

What is it, but a formless lump of clay?

That laughs ecstatic in my shaping hands

Why should I fear to risk the depth of love?

And trembling, pull back from the dangerous edge

So certain that my wings were not enough

So certain that I knew how deep it went

How can life be tasted and be touched

By a tourist snapping pictures from a bus?

Alec Steinwall


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