A friend recently shared this poem with me as one of her favorites and it has quickly become one of mine too. I want to give something I have made to people who matter to me and need to make a space in my days to do so.

The Rights

I want to give you
something I’ve made

some words on a page–as if
to say ‘Here are some blue beads’

or, ‘Here’s a bright red leaf I found on
the sidewalk’ (because

to find is to choose, and choice
is made.              But it’s difficult:

so far I’ve found
nothing but the wish to give. Or

copies of old words? Cheap
and cruel; also senseless:

this instead, perhaps–a half-
promise: If
I ever write a poem of a certain temper
(willful, tender, evasive,
sad & rakish)

I’ll give it to you.

— Denise Levertov