Old Stuff

 

When I’ve written this,

once again, I’ll be emptied

and, once again, I’ll go rooting

through the old boxes in the attic,

the same old stuff.

Then I’ll say what I’ve already said

with different words,

and I will imagine for a while

that it is new,

and I will be pleased.

And so it may go,

till I am able to blow the words,

dry specks, off the page

and conclude finally

that I have said all I have to say.