A thin pocketbook and a full heart. |
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A Gift of ButtonsWhat can it mean and why these?Of all the possibilities for your anticipation, your understanding, your today, your tomorrow And yet these caught my wandering Stopped me dead in aimless tracks Said to me, you are there, this makes sense, don’t think about it, don’t come back later Made by hand, each slightly different The imperfection of human touch Laid out like so many dinner rolls, a confectioner’s frosting, glazed and then the kiln, a second kiln, then a third Why twelve? Not by chance Nine were not enough, fifteen beyond my reach Every day a compromise between need and real need, words and necessary words It’s too much and nowhere near enough, to touch your collar, dress your front Closure of breast-pocket or sleeve, the gift of no money, the gift of my arrested step, the gift of buttons |
This poem is included in Jim Freeman's poetry collection CORNER OF MY MIND available here in print or as an e-Book in your favorite formats. |