Lose something every day. Accept the fluster of lost door
keys, the hour badly spent
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:places, and
names, and where it was you meant to travel.
None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother’s watch. And look!
My last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’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 like (Write it!) like disaster.
——-
- Elizabeth Bishop
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