The disorganized exodus
Houses in disarray
Vehicles stuck and arguments too
I left sneakers without laces
Without my souvenirs
or my California box
Through the small canyon
To the rear of some shanty town
Past the school kids who'd trained their sarcasm
And into a house
There stood a humble man who knew my doubts
Laces in his hands
He said those who go about tying double bows
Will harvest much when they are young
But those who have just enough to tie one bow
Will harvest most with what they know
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