I inherited a puzzle. 10,000 pieces. I counted.

No edges for frame, no edges in sight. the picture inscribed in a lost box I've not seen, no center to start from. no left. no right.

a picture without color, a drawing without line buried in my head, glimpses at a time

each piece looks the same, all covered in white nothing quite fits, I wish I had a knife. I swear i'm getting there, I'll work all night...

a sliver here, a sliver there Look these two fit! 10,000 pieces... you start not to care

My puzzle has too many pieces I don't think they all fit. I've done what I can. a new day has dawned, with this my work ceases

I leave this puzzle to you, my son take all these pieces, all 10,000. and One.

Poetry, yes. Sensical, no. But as I read it today still as relevant as ever.