Easy goes, the wind drops
through the floor
shaking every foundation,
door to door.
What is good enough?
To keep us warm when we are poor.
What is just enough?
To keep us fed, not one bite more.
The world abounds about us,
with songs of birds.
The songs that die when we decry
in wants of more.
The mind will feed
on every drop,
a train amuck
the heart can stop.
Do I really need it?
as my teeth sink in.
What do I really need?
where I begin.