I want to give to you
the way the shovel does—
how it is useful and fits
in your hand as if
it were made to fit
in your hand. How
it makes the day’s work
easier. I want
to give to you the way
the soap does, how it
gives itself up
at your touch.
I want to give
to you the way
the moon gives,
taking no credit
for any light.
I want to give to you
the way the field gives,
greening and deepening
and framing the day
until it is too dark
to see.