Poem ?

May 6, 2008 at 12:26 pm | In Self, fantasy, poems |
Tags: , ,

My friend wrote a poem
about buying a wooden spoon.
I wrote one about a whisk broom.

A friend - perhaps the “wooden spoon” friend -
told me the best poems are about the
most unlikely things.

Not of moonlight and love.
Maybe of monkey wrenches or
paper clips or dirty windows.

But I’m not sure.
I think one just needs people
or things that can be people.

I want to convince the reader that
even a whisk broom
can love.

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