Sunday, February 1, 2009


The box of knickknacks he
Could never throw away,
The piles unread of newsprint
By the way
The pear tree rendered
Leaves for him to see,
By order of the fall
Were they set free,
It happened on a day
He took to sweeping out
The cubby holes inside
At first he emptied all
The dust in bins, but then
Upon the garden to decide

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