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
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