My Own Patch Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

The dust lies thick, right where I stand,
A little mess, in my own land.
I'll take my broom, and make it neat,
A clean path laid, for my own feet.

No need to watch the other side,
Or judge the path where others stride.
Their fallen leaves, their scattered stones,
Are not my worries, not my groans.

My work is here, my task is plain,
To clear my space, again, again.
For when my patch is swept and bright,
A better journey comes to light.