I praise those things I always take for granted:-
The tap my sister turns on for my bath
Every time I stay, the safety pin –
And who invented it? I do not know –
The comb, the piece of soap, a shoe, its shine,
The name tape and the string, a leather purse –
How they all flock as I recall them now,
And Now I also praise with all its holds
Of nudges, hand-shakes, playing trains with children.
There is no end until I’m tired and think
Of craftsmen everywhere … O I forgot,
Cushions, napkins, stoves and cubes of ice.
All the world is praise or else is war.
Tonight the moon is almost half in shape,
‘Tomorrow will be hot’ say weathermen.
I praise the yawning kind of sleep that’s coming,
And where the spirit goes, the sheet, the pillow …