Sunday, September 20, 2026

poem

 The Gift

When it’s first received

We play with it 

Like a toy


Then we want it to be just like

Everyone else’s toy.

So we dress it up 

In costumes and wigs.

Paint on a new face.

Voila! We can all pretend 

To have fun together! 


Then comes a long period of

Growing very attached to it 

No, we realize, it isn’t just like

Everyone else’s.

So we treasure it. Protect it.

Seal it in a laminated box.

Tend to it’s every shrieking need.

You have to. To save this world

You’ve come to think of as home. 

By this time it isn’t any fun anymore.


But then one day you see it 

In a brand new light and fall in love

All over again, only this time you’ll 

Do it right, not like the last time.

This time you see it doesn’t belong

To you. It’s everyone’s. 

Your error is a common illusion.

Hearing this articulated out loud

Reduces you to ictal laughter

Which, if you’re lucky, 

Goes on for quite a while

Until you settle down and start

Paying closer attention

To everything that surrounds it.


Then, just before giving it back

We play with it

Like a toy


9/20/26

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