(Since I didn't give you much notice, you can do it tomorrow, too.)
Take your poem out throughout the day and share it with your colleagues, your neighbors, your family. Come on, do it. It'll be fun.
I chose the poem I'm putting in my pocket in honor of my mom and in memory of my grandmother, Libby. This might be my mom's favorite poem. She had a copy of it on paper that had turned brown with age, in a tarnished frame, hanging on the wall in her kitchen. I think it used to belong to Libby.
Let me know what poem you put in your pocket, and why you chose it. We all need a little more poetry in our mundane lives, don't we?
Joyce Kilmer. 1886–1918
I THINK that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the sweet earth's flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.