MICHAEL’S GIFT

Hilda Stob Poetry
1974

WHAT’S THAT YOU HAVE IN YOUR HAND LUV?
A GIFT FOR ME YOU SAY?
ALL I SEE IS A SMUDGED, PLASTIC BOWL, LUV,
OLD, DIRTY, AND HALF FULL OF CLAY.

OH! I SEE TWO GREEN SHOOTS OF SOMETHING,
SPROUTING MUSTARD PLANTS YOU SAY?
AND YOU’RE GIVING THEM TO ME, LUV?
TO KEEP AS MINE ALWAY?

THANK YOU. THANK YOU VERY MUCH MICHAEL.

IT WAS INDEED A PRECIOUS GIFT.
IT CAME FROM A LITTLE BOY,
KNOCKING AT MY DOOR.

 

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