A Tchotchke
The day's transpired pleasantly, noTortured artist's trials, no desire
To create until this moment,
And make no mistake, what's here's
Not meant to fill a void. It's just
A thing which came to mind,
A tchotchke. Keep it if you'd
Like, and I'll go back to gliding
Through this lovely, tranquil day.
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
Read 26 times
Written on 2021-01-12 at 22:53
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