Sunday, January 6, 2013

Poem for 6 January, the Epiphany

For a Grandchild

What did you expect, child,
three saddle-sore greybeards
pushing past the sheep, shepherds
deferring as the exotic trio
shuffled in silk through straw?

Sorry! I am alone and hardly wise
but my only gift, western wit,
may help your innocence
when I have returned home
by a different route.

from: Michael Farry, Asking for Directions (Doghouse, 2012)

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