I prefer broken 
things clocks that 
chime late chipped 
dishes thread bare
furniture I celebrate 
them and their 
very own way
for aren’t we
you and me 
a bit slow
a little chipped 
and definitely worn
and aren’t we
all beautifully unique 

I often wonder 
if one less
is better than 
one more for 
less implies need
whereas more implies 
want and then 
where does most
and least fit 
hopes and promises 
I do suppose 

To be 
empty is
to be 
whole for
what is 
better to
shoulder burden 
than one 
who’s free

After all all
of this about 
is little more 
than good bye 
I wonder now 
when it started 
this good bye
because we know 
they are long
drawn out things 
like funeral processions 

My door is 
always open my 
lights always on
all are welcome 
for a while 
or maybe longer 
I won’t call 
come hither or
bid adieu that’s 
up to you