The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.
--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
Elizabeth Bishop.
I love this poem….thank you for sharing it with us.
I love this poem….thank you for sharing it with us.
Lovely said, and how true!
I'm glad that I left my ex…..it's he who's lost, not me! I say: Good riddens to men or woman like him! One day he'll see what he threw away and feel defastated, hopefully he will change and become a better person: not particular for me but for himself and the next woman he'll have….Next!!
Lovely said, and how true!
I'm glad that I left my ex…..it's he who's lost, not me! I say: Good riddens to men or woman like him! One day he'll see what he threw away and feel defastated, hopefully he will change and become a better person: not particular for me but for himself and the next woman he'll have….Next!!