Friday, September 10, 2010

Reason # 1073 I live in Newfoundland


Day Number Eight

Finally. Today
The food stops coming.
It goes like this
Sometimes.

I drop in here and there.
And emerge laden with
Bread or fish.
And Jiggs Dinners

Or muffins.
Or jam.
Or frozen berries
Or vegetables

Gently washed.
And passed to me
Like gold
Or diamonds.

They stand
At my backdoor
With lettuce and scones
Or home-made pizza

Wrapped like
Christmas.
Thinking
I’d like this.

And they’ll never
Know how I cry
In gratitude
Later. When alone.

13 comments:

  1. So many good things from so many generous people! You're blessed indeed.

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  2. again, www, so beautiful - I can't wait. I'll bring you some scones :-)

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  3. a gorgeous place and giving people. It, indeed, appears to be Eden. Just don't take any apples from a snakelike stranger.

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  4. Oh yes, GM, though I'm not blind to the darkness either!
    XO
    WWW

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  5. Nick:
    It is an extraordinarily generous place, I've never come across anything like it!
    XO
    WWW

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  6. Ah no, Conor, you'll be the guest, I'll have to bring some to you!
    XO
    WWW

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  7. Marcia:
    But they're the best kind of people! "Snake like people"! Bring 'em on!
    XO
    WWW

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  8. Lovely poem , WWW - as always.

    Sounds as though all the best of true Irish character has settled itself, in concentrated form, in a new location: Newfoundland - and you sniffed it out. I'm happy for you!
    ;-)

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  9. Thank you T - overall I would rate Newfoundlanders happier than the Irish.
    Some say the Famine had a lot to do with that.
    XO
    WWW

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  10. beautiful poem www.... thank you!

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  11. The poem is lovely and you are very lucky to live with such generosity and abundance.

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