Contributor Series 11: On Birthdays
Presents
By Len Kuntz

Slithering inside a Folgers coffee can with
slits cut into the Saran Wrap cover,
a copper-tailed snake was the gift you gave.
in later years there were others–
driftwood embossed with a baby Jesus shape,
pints of just-picked blackberries,
a bouquet of daisies you’d found in the slumped hills
behind our mobile home.
It was me who dreamed of riches
and you who never cared.
Today I kneel by your headstone
missing the magic of your simple kindness,
missing them but you
most of all.