Little things mean a lot,

Especially when they happen,

But sometimes it means more,

When they don’t.

The taste,

Of the empty space,

Where the once-whole,

Chocolate ice-cream scoop was.

The faint, jolting pangs of pain,

You feel,

A few seconds after,

The impact,

Of your pinky toe,

With a table leg.

When you find out,

That anticipated plans,

Made four days in advance,

To do nothing at all,

Are cancelled now.

You don’t live in fear,

Of good things gone bad,

Normally,

Because it should be no big deal,

Until it’s nothing at all,

Then it is.