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.

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About pinklightsabre

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