cake
and milk has never waned.
i can still
see my mother's hands
setting
the plate in front of me.
the fork beside it.
pouring the cold
glass of
white milk.
a napkin folded.
me in my striped shirt.
my hair combed.
my dungarees
and tennis
shoes on.
my homework done.
she'd wet her finger and
push my cowlick
down.
eat she'd say.
you were good boy today.
i'll put a slice
into your lunch box
tomorrow.
No comments:
Post a Comment