Something of Substance
I’ve looked long at my fingers
how they touch the air
dispel the dust in light of stair
I’ve seen them catch my fall to ground
and pick up leaves and things around
The mirror is a play along
a friend that makes no sound at all
nor grumbles when I take her toys
I watch with much interest and see
the way it does things just like me
The yard is fabric light and dark
and warm or cool the grass like park
depending on which way I turn
in dip of driveway’s down I see
another laying down piece of me
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