Not to be forgotten


           — A Children’s Chorus —


Every day I fetch my granddaughter,

four and a half, invariably by five pm,

from her kindergarten.

Parents waiting at the classroom door,

she suddenly grabs me by the hands and,

to the teacher’s and everyone’s astonishment,

leads her colleagues,

in all sixteen, to sing

happy birthday for me.

So, she gives me a wrapping paper folded

like a letter, in pencil written – I love you.

What more needs a man?

Published in Right Hand Pointing, issue 94, January 2016.

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