Giving

One of our rare trips down the mountain

To the dusty dirty towns

We’re told to visit an uncle

Petrol, flour, vegetables, nails

Finally we get there, too late

But lunch is forced upon us – mutton

A rare treat

 

They’re lovely people

And as we leave we spot some plums

A girl is sent to pluck them

She comes back with a bag full

Uncle looks through

And gives the girl the first two

Naturally

She smiles

Next, his grandchildren

Then us