Well, But When?
A door slams in the distance
And I look up to listen,
Thinking:
Might this be of importance to me?
But I find that this question
Often betrays its own answer.
And I count these moments
Like pennies that are thrown
As alms to the uninteresting.
But off to the side of my eye
I see a stray fiber floating,
Suspending and curving,
Darting in and out of view.
It curls about and executes
The perfect loop-dee-loop,
Weaving circles in the chaos
Within galaxies of sun-lit dust.
I smile as it turns about,
And lands softly
On my shirt-sleeve.
With gratitude I accept
The donation it gives to me.