This is Also Just to Say

I had a box of Ritz I wanted kept.

Upon a morn in Seoul I found it torn.

Who did this crime while I and England slept?

My sister - she had left the crumbs forlorn;

With not a note - unlike in Williams’ poem.

I gathered up the final bag, with grief.

Our mother asked if I would bear it home.

A quote from Wordsworth came to my relief.

I thought that yes, somehow I’ll have to find

Some joy in what remains – and never mind

That 'strength' - not joy - I learned - was the true line

(I looked it up); the sense still seems quite fine.

And as with crackers, so with trips and time

All things must end - and world itself, some say

By entropy or chewing up divine

Will pass or whither like the state - away.
Perhaps the ancient oracles were right.
Such ends come just like a 'thief in the night'.