Bonsai

by Edith L. Tiempo

All that I love

I fold over once

And once again

And keep in a box 

Or a slit in a hollow post

Or in my shoe.

All that I love?

Why, yes, but for a moment--

And for all time, both.

Something that folds and keeps easy,

Son's note or Dad's one gaudy tie,

A roto picture of a queen,

A blue Indian shawl, even

A money bill.

It's utter sublimation,

A feat, this heart's control

Moment to moment

To scale all love down

To a cupped hand's size.

Till seashells are broken pieces

From God's own white teeth,

And life and love are real

Things you can run and

Breathless hand over

To merest child.