Posts Tagged ‘toast’




It’s just a piece of toast.

Bread. Heat. Butter.

Last season’s apricot jam.

It’s just breakfast. Just

simple carbs and a little fat

so that their brains can

function better, bodies

can move without hunger.

It’s just a few bites

that disappear in moments.

No one looks at the meal tenderly.

No one thinks, oh, my mom

must really love me—

look at the way she spread the butter

so evenly to cover all the bread.

No one thinks, she knows

just how light, just how dark

I like my toast. No, they just eat it

and rush toward the door.

Some part of me is grateful

they take it so for granted,

believing love is as easy

as pushing down a toaster lever,

as simple as saying thanks.

Read Full Post »




Sometimes there’s enough joy

in the day that the you who is afraid to be alone

and the you who loves to be alone

and the you who is never alone

and the you who is always alone

all sit at the same table

and share a glass of wine

and though they say nothing

they nod in easy agreement

and wordlessly toast

to each other’s health.

The wine tastes of sunshine,

of yesterdays, of giving up,

a sweetness they can’t name.

Read Full Post »

%d bloggers like this: