A Poem for My Dad
We think about it frequently and yet, we don't think about it enough.
Feel it; say how hard it is to believe it.
Everything revolves around it.
It.
It, it, it.
Isn't it crazy?
Maybe we shouldn't use that word -
Unbelievable? Yes.
The majority of people won't talk about how much they've wasted.
Share it? Sure.
Pretend it's unlimited and take it for granted? Sure again.
For what it's worth we should bottle it and sell it,
Line it up on a table at a Farmer's Market.
Break off a piece to store in a safe spot for later.
For old Time's sake.
