I let a part of myself go

before I kissed it and held it softly

I realized I loved it

not for the beauty or other traits

but because it existed

And with a smile

I put it in the fireplace

 

 

 

Rustle, rustle, rustle whisk

whoosh of gentle feet

Poem strokes on a scroll

ikebana swishing

Sip, sip, sip your tea

this lunar year in beauty