the mailman brings home the biscuits, and we sit there,
patiently, like a child waiting for a candy, and
when it is delivered we get that little bump in our stomach, and
the flush in our brain, for that
oh-so-brief moment, before we realize that
it was all for someone else.
notes from a not-for-profit life. reader notes for poems: bold represents emotional thought, boldness; italics represent narrator-thought or God-thought.
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