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Contributor: Erik Bergholm

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We grow tall
for the same reason
the plum tree
gropes for the shimmering stars
and like its sleeping blossoms
each one dreaming of
a powdered world
dispersed by the sigh of its sun
we stir in our beds
in the soft, quiet hours
at the memories
of the dust dissolved in our veins

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I am a journalism student at the College of St. Scholastica.


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