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Gift

by Leonard M Hawkes

In March, in Holland
In the woods above the Rhine,
You invited us in for "iets fris"--
The taste was bitter,
But I endured those first sips
Of your Tonic.

And now, in western mountains
Forty years from the Rhine,
In the clarity and cold
Of mid-October, I drink to you--
Savoring that "Gift"
Of a Stranger.

10/05/2013

Author's Note: Memory, bilingual word play, and thankful pleasure.

Posted on 10/05/2013
Copyright © 2024 Leonard M Hawkes

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