I’m treasure hunting,
in my office, it is here,
something that I lost.
Notebooks say pick me,
‘I have stories and poems,
things you’ve forgotten’.
Butterflies fly by,
quickly looking for that thing,
on the summer breeze.
So quickly darting,
back and forth then it hovers,
just for a moment.
I’m counting the times,
I have walked a long the beach,
now the sands of time.
