FAMOUS
by
Naomi Shibab Nye
The river is famous to the fish.
The loud voice is famous to silence,
which knew it would inherit the earth
before anybody said so.
watching him from the birdhouse.
is famous to your bosom.
more famous than the dress shoe,
which is famous only to floors.
and not at all famous to the one who is pictured.
who smile while crossing streets,
sticky children in grocery lines,
famous as the one who smiled back.
I want to be famous in the way a pulley is famous,
or a buttonhole, not because it did anything spectacular,
but because it never forgot what it could do.
If only we could all write as well as this--especially poetry that is, well...poetry.
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