Manna

MANNA Fresh from the movies when I was eight Strolling the snow-covered road with mum late, Talking of Heston and movies biblical And was there such a thing as a miracle? Deep kid with more than one kid-question - Was deep snow from heaven? Divine intercession? Eating chips * from an open newspaper bag, Finished mine in a hurry - I didn’t lag. Drank my vinegar from the packet’s corner As was my custom after the Brothers Warner. Waiting for her to finish, hoping as always For her to offer me an extra chip, my mouth I raise. She sees my eye and shoves her hand In her bag, pulls out a fat chip and fans Its heat for me; she reaches down to my Begging mouth, misses for fun, then second try. As it slid in a huge snowflake landed on its top Like icing on a birthday cake from a shop. Absolute delight filled both our souls - Believe me, that was the best of our strolls. Fresh from her bag, it was mother-warm Mid the snow’s white feather-storm : It was surely manna from heaven. It was soul-bread needing no leaven. Note: * Chips is British English for french fries. .................................................................................... Entered in Deborah Guzzi's contest FOREIGN EXCHANGE Country I am writing from = United Kingdom