All There Is To Me

I might write a poem a day,
usually many at a time
and then a few a week.
I always think I should
put them up here
or send them off,
then I don't.
I still might,
but it's really not very important.
Life just streams on
with the butterflies
and the Summer breeze.
Sometimes I write stuff about it,
but what portion matters?
The part where life is streaming by is all there is.
I write or I do not.
I work or I do not.
My life is my love
is all there is to me,
and I can see the day
when it is not here
but the bees and the flowers
still nod with it.
I've never been here nor there.
There is no mark I can make that will last.
Summer is right now
whether I notice it or not,
make a note about it or not.
One thing may seem
better than another.
One way might.
I don't wish for any other life.


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