Small Irks

I won’t resent the recent clumsy act
of some unthinking new co-resident,
who hauled the bins that weren’t emptied back.
I won’t resent.

And though I’m told that my four neighbors meant
to reimburse me promptly and exact
for common bills I paid, for all I spent,

I’m trying not to feel it’s honor lacked.
I want to think them all intelligent
but victims of life’s power to distract.
I won’t resent.

(Roundel)

This entry was posted in Home, Neighborhood, Poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a comment