Poem

I have been sorting, sorting, sorting papers over here.
It's a little overwhelming but at the same time feels really good.
On an old neighborhood calendar, I found this little poem.
I'm not sure who wrote it, but I thought I'd share it with you!

Can you read it? It says:

" I love the little joys
of life--
the smell of rain,
the sound of brooks,
the taste of crispy
 toast and jam,
The sight of rows
and rows
of books. "