The Gift

by Jon Swan


For your birthday I gave you a sky-filled window.
When you looked at it you said it was so blue it hurt your eyes.
You said nothing about the tiny man cartwheeling through the air.
Nor did you mention the funnel cloud gathering on the horizon.
I tried to keep myself from seeing those things too.
But when I looked into your eyes I saw my fears.
You smiled and said the whole thing reminded you of Flaubert.
I wanted to ask what you meant, but I couldn't find the words.
Later, a baseball came flying through the window.
Children's frightened voices could be heard.
The window was broken in the shape of a star.
On the sill was the body of a tiny man.  
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