Take joy where you can find it;
Luck-seldom that’s in weird places,
Not the carnal kind;
That isn’t where, first, my mind goes,
Though I’m not absent that thirst.
The too-narrow kite that flies us—
Sky-blinds us ’til
We’ve run out the play.
I say look for it better:
In the impermanent,
It’s there, if by just one letter—
Aware of it more and more.
Not many a door I’ve not been through,
But there are a few more
I fancy’ll open.
Copin’s happy enough,
When my look’s for stuff worth lookin’ for;
And hopin’s the handiest knob on a door.