A million things to do
and I write poems
not for you
but for me
to teach me how to talk
what I am
where my dreams lay down
to sleep and dream themselves.
A map guides my feet
with roads
an contour
but what guides my heart?
The year of the poem is finished, now it is the year for the protocol! Read about the misadventures of a plant scientist trying to make sense of photorespiration one mutant at a time.
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