Anything anyone does
Daily that doesn’t have to
Be done daily or at all
Is strange, as if an odd bit
Of particulate matter
Had got caught in the machine,
Dust swept up in the cycles
Necessary to bodies
Of social, diurnal beasts,
The dailiness that you are
And have to be that needn’t
Involve prayers or poems like these.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.