Of things that disappear in gentle breeze;
That ripple only once through stately trees:
A word of kindness that I do not share,
A gentle touch not felt to show I care;
A moment’s meditation never found,
A chance to meet someone on common ground;
A fresh-cut trail I do not choose to take
A chance to say “I’m sorry, my mistake
Each opportunity I fail to seize
I rue their disappearance in the breeze!