Just searching for the good stuff .
It is not unlike
the smallest bedroom
in a drafty old house.
It was empty
so I started
filling it
with things
I thought you
might like :
ribbons of morning light
flat stones
keys
hats
Not sure what it
looks like
from where you
are standing.
I see you
peeking in
steering clear
of the doorway.
Just as I cannot
leave this place
you cannot enter.
There is
a draft
under
the door
carrying specks
of dust.
Or magic.
So much catches
in the light
Even us.
As long as we’re
telling the truth,
even us.