But today for some reason I felt like if I didn't find that thing, my head would explode. I've looked everywhere. All the logical places and-- because it's me here-- all the illogical places, too. No dice.
On the upside, it did remind me of this poem, which is one of my favorites, favorites favorites. Former student readers, I hope you remember this one:
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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 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.
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Made me feel a little better. I haven't lost any rivers lately.
That I know of.
Oh, that's a good one. I love that poem too. It always makes me want to cry, or at least it makes me get that little catch in my throat that alerts me to the presence of real poetry.
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