I am the spoon in the back of the drawer
Shoved back there one day and
Now I’m forgotten

I am the pinecone that falls from the tree
So tiny and useless
But I’ll try to grow

I am the sound of the wind and the waves
Dancing along the shore
Racing to meet land

I am the dust resting on the counter
A layer of cobwebs
Shadowing the world

I am the river trick’ ling through the woods
What am I running from?
And why do I rush?

I am the rain at midnight in August
The warm wet feeling of
Happiness, freedom

I am the cartwheel you turn on the beach
You fling yourself upward
And I do the rest

I am the shoelace that’s always untied
I flop by your feet and
You stop to tie me

I am the day you never want to end
Sopping with memories
Of moments you seized

I am the spoon in the back of the drawer
Shoved back there one day and
Now I’m forgotten
I’m also the words that make up this poem
Each one holds deep meaning
That makes up the world