"Litany," by Billy Collins
You are the bread and the knife,
the crystal goblet and the wine.
You are the dew on the morning grass
and the marsh birds suddenly in flight.
There is just no way you are the pine-scented air.
to being the field of cornflowers at dusk.
nor the boat asleep in its boathouse.
that I am the sound of rain on the roof.
and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.