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227

On a sad day of losses big and small
someone left a flowerpot in the hall
that wasn’t money or plenty of time
but if I wanted it the thing was mine
alive for sure because hint of a leaf
sharply and green was beginning to peek
out of the moss like the point of a knife
pushed out of the earth by the Hand of Life
if life were a hand and it held a knife
but not to slash my throat—No life was kind
at a closed door in a shadowy hall
a little thing but I could have it all
this amaryllis to be. Happiness
was free and up to me and always is.


Drawing by Akram

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