Lose something every day.
—Elizabeth Bishop, “One Art”
Lose something every day, the poet said—
and how I laughed the first time that I read
her words. My keys? My gloves? My place in line?
My favorite socks? A name? My glass of wine?
I’ve got that down, I thought, and shook my head.
But then I thought of passing time, the threads
of dates unraveling—and how I try to wind
them back, reclaim those squandered hours as mine.
Lose something every day?
And then I thought of certainty, how wed
I am to thoughts, convictions, faith. Instead
of losing them, I cling. Then they confine.
Some things are better lost—my rigid mind,
my prejudice, old chains of shame, my dread—
lose something every day.
I’m so often struck with the depth of your thought that goes into these poems….and this is another example. You’ve expanded a truism into a creative journey, and reading it was a pleasure.
Carol, thank you for this comment. I do love to think about poems I’ve read, such as this one by Elizabeth B., and writing new poems about them helps me sift my thoughts some! I am so grateful for your willingness to jump in with me, thank you!