Treasures,
treasures in unmade beds
and unlighted rooms,
in the slant of hill
and the curve of light,
treasures in the voice,
in the throat of the unsung,
the pure gold of the ordinary
and the praise of a quiet smile..
Treasures,
the treasure of the moment
when she says,
“I want to be honest with you,”
and then, expecting good byes,
she gives you the heavens,
and that’s true treasure:
pleasantries in the common
where simple hopes are realized.
