On a Piece of Lint I Found in My Coat Pocket

Tiny shred of naught

Who knows from whence thou came?

You were once a filament of a mighty garment,

Perhaps even of a King’s robe

Yet you were somehow cast adrift into the world

To fare how you would in a world of things greater

No man might know how you came to my closet

And somehow by devices unknown

You found your way to my coat pocket

Where I, by chance, found you.

I took you into my hand,

A wanderer far from your origins

But I cast thee from me as the dust that thou art.

And where you go after

No man may know.

A wanderer on the wind,

A worthless piece of lint.