W.S. Merwin // The Present

poem8.
W.S. Merwin
The Present

As they were leaving the garden
one of the angels bent down to then and whispered

I am to give you this
as you are leaving the garden

I do not know what it is
nor what it is for
what you will do with it

you will not be able to keep it
but you will not be able

to keep anything
yet they both reached at once

for the present
and when their hands met

they laughed