How Do I Know When a Poem Is Finished? by Naomi Shihab Nye, 1952
When you quietly close
the door to a room
the room is not finished.
It is resting. Temporarily.
Glad to be without you
for a while.
Now it has time to gather
its balls of gray dust,
to pitch them from corner to corner.
Now it seeps back into itself,
unruffled and proud.
Outlines grow firmer.
When you return,
you might move the stack of books,
freshen the water for the roses.
I think you could keep doing this
forever. But the blue chair looks best
with the red pillow. So you might as well
leave it that way. Art by Hugo Moreno
Recommended listening: Puri Juggernaut's Tribute to Pt Ravi Shankar
Links of the Day: Crayon Game More Than 100 Exceptional Works of Journalism Typely ‘The Hot Seat’, a melty collaboration between Tim Lahan and Swiss publisher Nieves