It's not entirely certain how certain things
became things of ours. Like love hearts
and bears, which surely belonged
to the world, before. Or birds
and bees, and other things
I can't see, or even have occur
to mind without thinking of you,
too. Which I find
revolutionary.
But as to how it comes around, that
someone could steal in and stake
such claims on random and lovely
things lying about to say "Hey!"
with their presence,
perpetually
in your face,
any time when you least
suspect - I look round and find
the world is ours.
It's mysterious, since,
before - I don't even think
it was mine,
and it certainly never stretched
so far.
3 comments:
Oh, I like this one very much indeed.
This is a really nice poem, and I like that it touches on both the tangible and intangible. I've read it a couple times now, and each time I see different things in it. I particularly like the second stanza, especially that last little part: "Which I find revolutionary." That bit ties that stanza together in such a lovely way. And, as is often the case, I like the way this one ends. Well done.
Thank you both!
I like it too. It just started itself off and turned out lovely.
Post a Comment