97poems/soap

SOAP

At the seaside bazaar
a woman is selling lovely round soaps
with a cutwork pattern that makes
them look like a piece of lace.
A woman with very clear skin,
a clear that was more than skin deep,
that seemed to emanate from a clear heart,
the sort of woman you would
want to make your soap.

All her soaps were made
of pure ingredients and
her smile said she made
each one with joy.
I selected a lavendar one,
wondering who I knew who
could apprediate a bar of soap
as being enough for a gift.
It seemed too expensive
to just be a bar of soap,
it needed to be recognized as a gift.
I saved it for weeks before finally
realizing I could give it to myself.