Poem with a strawberry in it (mine).


A child was made to stand alone

on the outskirts of the market

stall, his father scolding  him

into stillness. I asked him

if he’d like a strawberry;

I brought him the biggest one

I could find. “Oh thank you,”

he said. “Strawberries are my

favorite food.” “What other foods

are your favorites?” I asked

jauntily; I love to talk favorites

with children. He shook his head.

“No other foods, “ he said.

“Strawberries are my only

favorite.” I nodded. He stood

reddening his face with strawberry

with me crouched to his level.

Soon his mother took his hand

to exit. “Thank you so much

for the strawberry,” he said.

I too have only one favorite.

(illustration via “color my life with the chaos of trouble“)

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