In eternal orbit (No, not Mangalyaan)

In eternal orbit
are the strange gifts you receive
from people who don't care enough
to know what you like
but who insist, nevertheless,
on giving you some strange
unwanted item that
you know you cannot give away
to anyone you really know:
basically because you wouldn't
be seen dead giving a gift
so crass or tasteless.

(And your children also give to you
to keep/store or redistribute
strange gifts that they've received).

You also get given gifts
recycled so gracelessly,
that they have the original recipient's
name on a card inside,
or a fifteen year old newspaper as
the inside wrapping of a set of glasses.
And then you give them away
to charity, for raffles, to your maid,
hoping that someone, somewhere,
will be happy to win
the strange objets d'art
or the umpteenth lemon set
or glass bowl,
or casserole
or impractical stuff given
for the child who lives abroad.

I pray that I may
continue to receive 
these unwanted gifts
with grace, in a spirit of love,
as, I presume, they are given.

And then I pray that givers everywhere,
including me, of course,
be more enlightened in their giving.

And finally, that these
eternally orbiting unwanted objects
find Nirvana: a place, any place,
where they are loved and cherished
and finally used,
away from my home and my life.

Saturday morning

The two young boys
in the next-door balcony
hanging out their bath towels
on the washing line
smiling and laughing,
happy brothers.