Published in inScribe, issue 1


Gift

I gave you
Olive oil
Green and bitter
When I would have given you


The marigolds
Carpeting the grove


The moon-bright snow
On the mountains


The constellations
That I never learn


The wind that blows
My voice away.


I gave you
This poem
When I would have given you


The anchor that you lack
On the wild sea
Of existence.
Published in inScribe, issue 1