Prompt from Nagambie writing group
The basket at the door
The door was shut
What was I to do?
I knocked on it a few times
In order to give her time
To come to the door
Silence echoed my knocks
What was I to do?
I looked around
The deserted verandah
Then I spotted it
The basket by the door
Empty ready to hold
Anything and everything
The sign of expectation
I was waiting for
I could drop the bountiful gifts
From my garden there
Along the weeks and months to come.
One always needs a basket at the door
To find a happy recipient
Without having to go
Through the social niceties.
I’ll will fill it and walk away.
Lucette C. Bailliet
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