alphabet soup

as a child your
mother
would ladle
a hot broth
of alphabet soup
into your bowl.
you remember
staring at
the white milky
letters
floating wordlessly
around, then
onto your spoon.
you didn't care
why or how
such things were
made, but
you didn't
want to waste
the words the letters
could become,
like children
not yet formed
into adults,
with lives
and children of
their own.