Milk (to be read with “Oatmeal”)
[Oatmeal Verse 1]
Morning sings the sacred motions to me,
My daily bread as I reach overhead for oats,
And pull from the cupboard.
-- And slippers call.
[Oatmeal Verse 2]
Gentle laughter in white bowls
As brown eyes meet mine,
And with a kiss like fresh grass
Milk follows in line.
[Oatmeal Verse 3]
Silence bookends our words
As samara thoughts wind,
And I know somehow their way,
Each one marking time.
-- He sits on a curb, a lithic convenience for his tired legs,
The heady smells of soap and gas mingling over and around.
And with pruned hands he scrawls these votive words:
“Live your life, and love.”
[Oatmeal Verse 4]
He looks up from the dog-eared page and I see his words inscribed:
In the eyes that still meet mine and stay,
In the wide heart I strive to fill,
In the children’s children we help to raise,
In that simple bowl of oatmeal and milk.