filled with the intent
to be lost.
Accept the fluster,
the hour badly spent.
The art of losing,
losing farther, losing faster:
where it was you meant
will bring disaster.
I lost my mother's watch.
Three beloved houses went.
The art of
two cities,
two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but
(the joking voice, a gesture
I love)
too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!)
(One Art by Elizabeth Bishop)
