(title after a first line by e.e. cummings)
when you with your nimble
and radiant thoughts
reach into the junkyard of my mind
and there—hiding behind
some old rusty shoulds
and burnt-out what ifs—
you find a small tarnished scrap
of lost perhaps and hold it up
like a treasure, burnish it
with fierce devotion
until even I can see
how it shines.