Today I am a volume of poetry.
Tomorrow I am a piece of felt on the ground.
The wind moans in my ear.
No light I have found.
Some say I am going hungry.
They can see it in my eyes.
The darkness is round the moon;
It glimmers like a monsoon.
The distance I surmise.
Today I am a volume of poetry.
Tomorrow I am a map.
My cat comes to sit in my lap.
We throw papers on the floor.
Your mother comes to take the garbage out the door.
Whispered secrets, down on my luck,
My toe has been stuck in the mud and the muck.
Today I am a volume of poetry.
Tomorrow, I am your daughter.
I carry with me, the sound of a laughing otter.
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