Oatmeal (to be read with “Milk”)
Morning sings through windows overlooking
Tomatoes well grown and swings well flown,
As I slip through the hall.
-- And oats call.
[Milk Verse 1]
Here, among the places where echoes still play,
-- Echoes of acorns born of acorns born of oaks --
Tambourine tiles carry me as oats
Now spill from tambourine box:
Tambourine hands and tambourine locks.
[Milk Verse 2]
She pours over me and steam unfurls
Its life up and up and I am suddenly adrift with it.
I see myself pouring too:
Pouring over cars unwashed, vacant smiles,
And a sky of unsettled blue.
[Milk Verse 3]
I look up from the dog-eared page and see my 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 this simple bowl of oatmeal and milk.
[Milk Verse 4]