
Newborns are certain
though you’ll never hear them say
heaven imparts love
Life’s best without words
mere symbols get in the way
poets be forewarned
Name it to lose it
stepped aside by one degree
objects lose their shape
Conform to design
preconceived notions thwart us
maya at the turn
Like distant cousins
what once was plain as the day
lost in the shuffle
© Chagall, 2013
