Little Things

Little things, deep inside a jar.

               “I see Grandpa.”

(not where he is, but where you are)

                      “I will live a thousand years.”

       (if there is no war)


And in the rust, beyond all fuss,

       a bright bird makes her home.


               She does everything a flower does,

and does it well, before she’s flown.



Earlier this morning: Less is more (five new drawings)