Kindness is
spreading like a virus.
It passes quickly through the winter town.
In this season, me has become us.
For who is not tempted by a bargain?
There is chaos in the sales hall
in the perfume shop, a near riot.
Drawn like insects to the gaudy mall
as if the world’s riches were running out
in this strange dance, we slide and thrum.
Clutching our packages, our love
busily, we jostle and collide.
Are we asleep or more keenly alive?
It is a play in which we know our part.
A ritual of the altruistic heart.
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