Letters.  By themselves, insignificant, until
they combine to make something of
themselves as words.

Words.  Seperate, not important until
they are joined with more of like mind to
make sentences.

Sentences.  The first is alone, until others
stand beside it, united in a common goal to
be put into a book.  

Books.  One to my name, co-written with a
friend and twin sister.  With God's help,
more in my future.

Until then, 2,800 poems made up of sentences,
words and letters:  who would've thought all
that was in there.  Didn't, until 9/11/01.

(c) 2009, Karla Dorman (5/16)