Today’s “Other People’s Words” is a poem about, well, “The Necessary Brevity of Pleasures.” It’s by Samuel Hazo.

Prolonged, they slacken into pain
  or sadness in accordance with the law
  of apples.
          One apple satisfies.
Two apples cloy.
                  Three apples
  glut.
      Call it a tug-of-war between enough and more
  than enough, between sufficiency
  and greed, between the stay-at-homers
  and globe-trotting see-the-worlders.
Like lovers seeking heaven in excess,
  the hopelessly insatiable forget
  how passion sharpens appetites
  that gross indulgence numbs.
Result?
       The haves have not
  what all the have-nots have
  since much of having is the need
  to have.
           Even my dog
  knows that – and more than that.
He slumbers in a moon of sunlight,
  scratches his twitches and itches
  in measure, savors every bite
  of grub with equal gratitude
  and stays determinedly in place
  unless what’s suddenly exciting
  happens.
           Viewing mere change
  as threatening, he relishes a few
  undoubtable and proven pleasures
  to enjoy each day in sequence
  and with canine moderation.
They’re there for him in waiting,
  and he never wears them out.