This poem is taken from Stand 234, 20(2) July - September 2022.

Fee Griffin Palm Pocket Palm
Palm Pocket Palm

I am walking this spaniel, a

creature bred for anticipation.

He is waiting at all times for

you to turn to him. He expects

at all times there is a ball in

my pocket. This is not the

case. To indicate no ball I

make a gesture of open flat

palms the way Jesus does in

those pictures of blessings or

maybe when he’s just

thinking ‘oh wow’ or has

sticky fingers and doesn’t

want them to touch. I heard

somewhere that ‘now’ is

just our best guess of what’s

about to come true anyway.

Sometimes it comes false

instead and that is called

mental illness. I’m not saying

I think ‘no ball’ was the

original message, the one

people went crazy for. But

who knows? Sports have

always been very popular.

Jesus sighs, answers slowly

on the sports field, over the

fence, to a spaniel on a canal

path: ‘I don’t have your ball’.

The creatures bred for

anticipation turn eagerly,

look from palm to pocket to

palm. So there is a ball.

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