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
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