Small Things

Fan turning, light burning

Dust on the air

Cardinal feather, change in the weather

A lock of your hair.

Night falls, a kid calls

A door slams somewhere

A red thread, a doll’s bed

Songs on the air.

Folded notes, a thing I wrote

And hauled from here to there

A key, a ring, a plastic thing

That shirt you always wear.

Buttons and bones, two pens and a phone,

Lost and found and rare.

Coins and stamps, cards and lamps

The hat we used to share.

Baby teeth, stuck underneath

A rock from god knows where

Life in phases, sometimes mazes,

But halfway gone from there.