A Thousand Times

I've walked into this

Room

And never noticed the curve

Of this chair

Or the grain on this shelf

That courses around the knot

That once was a

Dignified branch

I've never seen the pattern

In this throw

That someone painstakingly

Finessed

Or the bronze column

Of this lamp

And its steadfast shadow

The ordinary wonder

Of a carved table leg

Or a graph

Of books

Tiny voices

I've never heard

Calling me out of

Myself

Thanksgiving

The day we take

Time away

From complaining

That our computer isn't fast enough

That our closet isn't

Big enough

That the waitress failed

To notice

That our drinks were empty

That our garage isn't clean enough

That our paycheck isn't

Large enough

That our workload is

Increasing

And our boss is hard to please

That our car isn't new enough

Our waistline

Doesn't shrink enough

The days are short

The nights are shorter

And filled with too much

Stuff

Just one day

In all the year

To forget such dire needs

And pretend that we believe

Enough's enough

An Opinion

May contain a thread

Of something that's seen

Or heard

Or read

Mostly

It's shaped with

A subjective knife

Carved to conform

To what seems to be right

The more I'm respected

The greater it's weight

A scholar

Or Hollywood star

Will inflate

Credibility

But the primary substance

At best

Without solid truth

Is anyone's

Guess