For me this is so perfect. (actually there is no "so" in the perfect, because the perfect is "perfect" and it can't be perfected any more.)
Perfect, even though how simple it is. The simplicity is so perfect that as soon as you read it, you would say to yourself: It is so obvious, or if you are way more honest, you would say: Hey, why didn't I think of it before? It is simple and predictable that before you finis the first half, considering the size of it, you already know how it is going to end. But all these wouldn't cut a bit from its perfection. Because perfection is not a mind game, specially a successful one.
Congratulation Luce, you achieved a good hight in this little poem. For this is what art is:: Creation, by trying to capture, or by tapping on The perfection on and on endlessly, because even though you can never reach there, yet you perfect, your existence, on and on perfectly, endlessly.