it was enough this morning

that there were fresh apricots

on the kitchen table

a bowl of soft-skinned light

juice running down my chin as i ate, but then

i turned around

to hear my name

walking hand-in-hand

with the word

love

my hands now so full of the goodness, this gift

that the fragrance has not left my mouth all day.

— a quiet gift

© Liezel Graham 2020.

Image by Sophie Vinetlouis

Unsplash

a poem about quiet gifts.