Just today I did not fall in love with the long hallway,
or the faithful radiator or the steadfast brick.
I did not fall in love with a calculator or
with lavender soap. I certainly
did not fall for a loyal wooden ladder,
not for a mirror, not for the underappreciated spider,
not for a door, no matter how open it was.
So many chances, lost. So many invitations unanswered.
There are days when the heart forgets its work—
not out of maliciousness, more perhaps, because
it is tired. These are the days when I hope
that I will remember to sit quietly until
once again the heart finds the energy to love itself.
Then it is only a matter of time before it loves again
the red thread, the socks, the chipped blue cup.