Currency For Kindness
You held me that day, wrapped me in your cocoon,
Waited patiently for me to grow my wings back.
You let me cry a salty puddle on your shirt,
Resting your puzzle-piece chin on my puzzle-piece head,
Rubbing my back in little circles that recharged me.
There is no currency for kindness, my friend,
But I owe you more than you can know.
Copyright © Heather Ober | Year Posted 2012
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