Thirty-two cents is all you need
just concentrate
put everything you have into it
and you’ll get there.
Yes, but what do you miss
from the whole cloth
from which those few cents
are cut?
I see the cloth
I’m poking through it
cutting from it
holding it in my hands.
Did you feel and see the fabric’s weave
the imperfections and texture
making it unique, interesting
and beautiful in its landscape?
I got what I needed
from that poor piece of cloth
to put in the bank
to buy the factory.
The future stretches before you
in your race to the finish line
don’t let that ever-changing line
shrink the wealth of the present.
“The Sense of Fabric,” Copyright © 2017 by Glenn Currier
Jun 13, 2017
Jun 13, 2017 at 12:43 PM UTC
Thirty-two cents is all you need
just concentrate
put everything you have into it
and you’ll get there.
Yes, but what do you miss
from the whole cloth
from which those few cents
are cut?
I see the cloth
I’m poking through it
cutting from it
holding it in my hands.
Did you feel and see the fabric’s weave
the imperfections and texture
making it unique, interesting
and beautiful in its landscape?
I got what I needed
from that poor piece of cloth
to put in the bank
to buy the factory.
The future stretches before you
in your race to the finish line
don’t let that ever-changing line
shrink the wealth of the present.
“The Sense of Fabric,” Copyright © 2017 by Glenn Currier
I woke up from a dream with the words: "thirty two cents" in my mind along with a memory of a dream. I thought it might be interesting to write a poem with those thoughts in mind. So I started typing that first line and the rest came to me as I continued to type. The title seemed appropriate as a play on words with that first line.
