Today's poem is by Jim Harrison and Ted Kooser
While my bowl is still half full,
you can eat out of it too,
and when it is empty,
just bury it out in the flowers.
All those years
I had in my pocket.
I spent them,
Each clock tick falls
like a raindrop,
right through the floor
as if it were nothing.
In the morning light,
the doorknob, cold with dew.
Copyright © 2003 Jim Harrison and Ted Kooser All rights reserved
from Braided Creek: A Conversation in Poetry
Cooper Canyon Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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