The Small Gift Poem by Mark Heathcote

I accept your love
fruit should be picked-ripe before it lingers on the ground
I accept your love
like a fish out of water, ah, what it is my love to drown
I accept your love
like that picture by Oleg Zhivetin, The small gift!
I have it hanging on my dining room chimney breast
like a gift, I shall never tire of it. Nor discard its contents.

I accept your love
because even a thrift purchaser
requires at least one good-fitting suit of clothes
I accept your love
its fair hand of friendship extends beyond
those discarded bedclothes.
I accept your love
after all is said and done. You are the one.