all we had were some restaurant matches, 
rubber bands, and a candlestick 
scattered there in the kitchen drawer, 
with batteries and some ink-free pens -- 
  the careless riches that marked our wealth 
  at the heart of our sunrise estate. 

all we had were some boy scout patches, 
some off-brands, a quick cure for sick,  
pattern tiles on the kitchen floor, 
and holiday cards from family and friends: 
  for nights we were rocking, for days of health, 
  with that broken lock on the gate. 

but there is no light that memory casts 
that cures all the aches, all the sorrows and fasts 
of a time of much, but with little to trade 
to put poverty into retrograde 

all we had were some joys in snatches, 
band-aids and cream for each new pinprick, 
some stubbed down pencils with which to keep score 
of our very few dollars and even less sense 
  that lives just get smaller when lived by stealth 
  and that, too, applies to the great