The prompt for this poem was to begin writing using the words, "I am but..."
Sometimes, when a writing prompt hangs me up, I turn to word definitions, as I did with this preposition...
This short prose piece generated from a prompt to write about an age gap. The first thing that came to my mind was the gap between the age I feel and the age I am.
Often, we use the term "settle" to convey accepting less than one deserves. In this poem, that meaning evolves into something else.
I don't think of myself as a collector, but I was a collector, once. At what age does it become unacceptable to put everything we love on display?