Propagation

The sandpit, a scary blue clam,

Abandoned by the previous tenants.

I opened it then closed it. It did not move.

Then there came a time with a wobbly toddler,

Clean as only a little one can be,

The soles of his feet as soft as his belly.

 

I opened the lid of the clam shell.

I placed him on the damp sand.

I would do the same, just as tenderly,

With a begonia leaf, to make another one.

 

sandpit

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