Old Poem

It is difficult in days of ease
(needs met and friendship at the elbow)
to store up gratitude like food
for when we will be alone
with only the forward in front of us
and no ability then
to withdraw from the bank of ourselves
contentment or comfort
put by in richer days.

So hard in a time of teeth
to imagine none
to think in theory of another self
we feel no given responsibility for.

How they wish they could speak
backward and as well as listen
have us somehow understand.

Instead I thank them for their service
and ask now to be forgiven
as any child will of its father.


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