Little Portion
A friend tells me never to use
the word little in a poem.
Later I discover Anne Porter’s
song of Little Portion, in Umbria,
where an 800-year-old church
is rumored by the local people
to ring with the music of angels
in hymn.
O meager tongue!
O pittance! Poor allowance!
As long as I have claim of you
I’ll spend you every penny,
into the stone bowls of days,
knowing little praise, if any,
will be mine!
-– Todd Boss