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They Bring Me Gifts

They bring me gifts. Leaves, acorns, a flyswatter, mud off their shoes.
With big smiles and a happy attitude, they bring me gifts daily.
Yes, I am talking about the kindergarten students, the happy five’s.
And occasional sixes, who lose their front teeth rather gaily.

They bring me family conversations, and use inflection in their voices.
Now running toward the play dough center in the room’s corner.
They bring me funny stories. I applaud their non-selective choices.
Learning more than a therapist, bartender or beauty shop owner.

I smile all day at their drama, and their clever understated antics.
They have no idea they are hilarious. not realizing their own worth.
Poetry begs to write about them, so of course I comply with happiness.
They are real, honest, hilarious, and full of their own little middle earth.

Copyright © Caren Krutsinger