One Art
by Elizabeth Bishop
The art of losing isn’t hard to master
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
or lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing istn’t hard to master.
Then parctice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, amd where it was you meant
to travel. None of these things will bring you disaster.
I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved hours went.
The art of losing istn’t hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.
—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look (Write it!) like disaster.
I carry your heart with me
by E.E. Cummings
I carry your heart with me (Icarry it in
my heart) I am never without it (anywhere
I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me your doing, my darling)
I fear
no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) I want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing for you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the buf
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind or hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart
I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart)
