Ode To An Old Writer's Desk
I got this thing from thrift store,
A quarter mile down the road
It was covered in scraps of God knows what
The seller must not have given it much thought
That a local wanderer would have an interest peaked
And a 1 bedroom space just big enough
To take that slab of bark for a spin
And carve out legends, just for fun
Put the those desk drawers to the floor
Of every pendulum this "I" in Me, caught on along the way
Of these travels...
To have a working space,
To finally craft the monuments
The moments almost had let slip away
This lap, topped with a window of thy soul
Ode to an Old Writer's Desk
To a memento of these wanderings, growing old
Don't forget to dot the"i"s and cross that t.
P