Home » Poetry » Day 347 – It

Day 347 – It

When I found it,
it was in the dirty hands
of a Lost Boy-
an old, discarded plaything
I had learned to live without.

But I loved it again
in the light of young passion,
snatched it and showed him
how to use it.

On park benches, huddled with
a secret treasure,
I’ve dismantled it a hundred times
and set it back another way.

It loves me well.

And who will come to take it
from my hands
when I’m giving it now for free?

Who will take it beyond my age
and serve it well, serve it more-
what hungry hearts will carry on
what I took so long to start?

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3 thoughts on “Day 347 – It

  1. Pardon my shallow train of thought about this poem, but I was inclined to think that “it” is a LEGO model by virtue of the lines: “I’ve dismantled it a hundred times and set it back another way.”

    Just my two cents.

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