Friday, April 05, 2013

Poem #4 for National Poetry Month.
I missed posting it by midnight, but I wrote it before midnight--honest! I was having trouble logging on! Grrr....anyway, here is April 4th's entry.

Crumb Buckets
Crumbs, all I see are crumbs!
What I eat turns into
Fine annoyances that fill
The cracks up on my floor and in my home
Too small to catch or throw away
I forget to gather it
After my haste fraught meal
So it sits there
Where I walk by it
Thinking I’ll clean it up
When I have the time
Who has the time these days?
Is the fabric thinly laid
Over my frail excuse
Smothering the will to sweep up of what’s left
A delight so carefully constructed for energy today
Tomorrow or the shoring up of days to come
Who knows when I eat again?
There may only be those crumbs left
And so, I leave them be
To be swept up some other day
When I am very full

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