Discontent

 

Today's poem, I think, states the obvious. When we've always had little in the way of material things, we're content. Ah, but when we have more, the appetite is whetted. We want more.

I was interested in the content/discontent relationship as I jotted these few words on a scrap of paper. Later, it seemed to me that it had a certain feel, a certain sound ... a poem, perhaps.

Here it is:

 

DISCONTENT

I was content

with what I had,

until I had more.

After that,

I discovered,

I could not

be satisfied

with any less.

© 1996

(originally published in Capper's)

 

***

Today's word: satisfied

Afterthoughts ... in response to your comments:

And your observation, Magran, reminds me of a house we owned in Illinois many years ago. The property was in town, but had a barn on it ... more like a carriage house, with the lower portion converted to garage use, the upstairs available, we were told, for square dancing. You can probably imagine what we did with all that space ...

Would I mind, Marti? Oh, I'd be honored for something I've written to find itself in such thoughtful company! Be my guest, please.