You love the Japanese cart the best.  
It loves you, too. Typically it seems
so indifferent to us passer-bys,
but the way it lets you draw it, my G-d.
All of its grace and delicacy,
maybe it considers you kindred
and it gives you the gift of itself-
a creation to a creator.
It’s filigree, for a single instant,
entwines with your red hair, forever.
Admittedly, it is a stark contrast
but the cart appreciates your traits
it has always prided in itself.
The cart stays youthful despite years
and journeys.
               And it stays so still for you
and your notebook that it seems like
it was just made for the very first time.