Poems by Miriam Kotzin

Little Things

Friends, life is good. Until it’s not.
And all too likely hell is hot.
I write this instead of cursin’
as I’m watching all things worsen:
every glass I drop will shatter;
every diet, I grow fatter;
my pressure’s up; my stocks are down;
my sweetheart greets me with a frown;
my hair grows gray; my collars fray;
my cable bill is due today.
So goes the aforementioned “not”,
and I accomplish diddly squat.
Let little things bedevil me— 
divert my thoughts from World War III.

What I Found

I hunted for a paper pad
with lines to make a little list.
It was then that I remembered
something essential I had missed.

I hunted for one sharp pencil
among pens in the desk top drawer,
and then I couldn't remember
what on earth I wanted it for.

I hunted for my glasses.
They're right here in their case .
I found that I am losing things
at an ever-increasing pace.

But I found it doesn’t matter
if I forget names I once knew—
just as long as they are the folks
who have forgotten my name too.