Oatmeal

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]