Stuff - Poem by Antoine Lavoisier
The realization has just fallen:
Her birthday card to me has been
Hidden on my desk-that
Cluttered mess of books and stuff (count: I) -
And since last August I forgot
That it was there.
[Over time, I oft overlook the opus words that
Make life more marvelous, less mundane.]
Have I been too worried with myself? Does she mind
My mind still figuring, still learning stuff (count: II) ?
The craft card on my desktop counter
Sits still. It is opened, words re-read.
And 'til next August,
There it rests.
Every word is a delight.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
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Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You