All You Leave Behind

The world is full of you;
For every piece I lose
I notice two more,
Like change dropped on the sidewalk
For me to pick up.

Blue reminds me, and wool, and arguments.

I love you in a different way each day,
Sometimes angry, sometimes wistfull,
Never quite as I imagined
You or I would be.

But you hate change.

Are we really different people
Between laying our heads down
And waking in the morning,
When we have to decide
Whether to say 'hello'
Or barely grunt?

Or are we just the same?


--Megan Morris, meikundayo@yahoo.com