This day
by Eric Lee Baker (1995)

I've thought about
this day

when your room
swarms with flowers

those fragrant fragments
from well wishers
scattered and strewn

what to offer
in atonement
for my lack of

My frustration in
putting pen to paper

when there's nothing
in my pocket

excluding excised

that currency of mind
that buys nothing
but the choicest time
already spent 

with you

such simple satisfaction
from knowing

simplicity sweeter

than the blood 
of words

with their stain
upon this page

knowing that your
worth to me

transcends the scope of age. 

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