My brown cup
thirty-five years my vessel
still Secret Santa remains
unrevealed.
My brown cup
thirty-five years my vessel
still Secret Santa remains
unrevealed.
Bicycle in
ha’penny waters
him his sign
evening sun
either of us
might slip
but not tonight
I gift him ten
we do not drown.
I need no gift
he says
while peeling carrots.
It is true
for what gift is needed at all?
Still,
tonight he reads
Pirsig’s Zen
again.
Pencil Notes 