Treats of All Kinds
More than divinity or marzipan or plump
apricots covered in black chocolate, more
than jewelry — its filigree, the brilliant
bursting beads — we want this delight:
hours in the soft grass of an upper pasture,
sitting on a stone wall, the sun smoothing
over us, wild raspberries climbing. We want
this kindness. We, who have done harm.