And I first bought bread from her,
As I was leaving change for the trade
She said 'enjoy the rest of your day'.
For years, I would then mutter in petto
'Enjoy this moment as it is'
The date of our making and this bread,
The birth of our son and the balm,
Enjoy this: the rigor felicitas.
In due course, I would be departing
On a cool oven day,
She'd say then 'enjoy the rest of it',
I thought, it? The rest of your rope,
The balance of your fate.
Comments about this poem (Echoes by Marcel Aouizerate )
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