Monday, August 11, 2008

Birthday

Birthday

You think this gift is important. Expensive. Quality.
The rich caramel hide and stitching,
Soft, yet stiff, perfect, yet incomplete.
What is missing is the love.
Like this glove I need to be filled--
Oiled and rubbed, nurtured to a perfect fit and form.

What does it matter if you give me a symbol?
A glove without a ball, or a hand to throw it?
This gift is empty whether my hand fills it or not.
I don't need a glove. I don't even need a ball.
What I need is you in front of me--
Waiting. Watching. Hoping.
Wanting to throw me a ball should one come rolling by.

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