The Utensil: From the Diary of Herald Hermit

He laid their wrapped in a cloth, but not secluded For he was folded with friends of silver skin Each discussing his or her responsibilities on the wooden table Perhaps a gossip or two of whom may be sharper or the cleanest Or who would likely be handpicked the most Children seemed to love him for his craft of scooping up the morning munchies in the dairy And from afar you hear the applause of old men, ill women, and the cold youth clapping their hands for his gallant effort of swimming in their hot soup My hand spoke to him; and I knew it not The question of stirring sage and senna leaf tea Not even I can compare with a simple spoon