Collector of small things

The poet is a collector of small things who says Here,
and holds out her hand with something found on a walk.

It’s a leaf that could be a flame it’s so red,
or a piece of wood that looks like a face.

The poet picks from the dirt to find what’s lost and forgotten,
gives homes to strays, preserves the dead and the living.


About pinklightsabre

William Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.
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