Praise Song for a Shoebox
Praise for the crisp fit of your corners,
the clever fold of your sides.
Praise for the firm feel of you, empty or filled.
Praise for the mind that designed you,
that dreamed the machine that made you.
Praise for the tree, unnamed, from which you came,
the weathered hands that felled it,
the forest that cushioned it.
Praise for each like you
that lives its purpose well.
No comments:
Post a Comment