Derivative

From the concourse

I can see the Capitol

Just a mile or two away

And a memorial or two

Stand along the way

Across the River Potomac

No airstrip like this

Anywhere else

Yet I so often miss it

In the rush to board a flight, 

Another taxi somewhere, 

Distractions everywhere

Such blindness or neglect

Cannot be fairly compared

To my cavalier disregard to

Magic of my own existence

On a tiny tumbleweed

Blown across a deserted universe

All I need to thrive

Was here before I arrived

Simple mathematical conclusion

Everything I can see

Including me

Is Derivative