Making Breakfast
Making Breakfast
by Edmund Siejka
We live
Where trees
Reach out
To shade
A quite place.
Saturday morning
Chores
Kids still asleep
She moves effortlessly
Cracking an egg
Then another
Adding seasoning
Stirring
A blur of movements
A flick of the wrist
And breakfast is ready.
She is the Mistress
Of the house
The kitchen
Is where
We have dinner
A chance for us to
Share and
Talk
Listen to our kids
Ask questions
And grow.
“Where is the salt?” I ask
Morning sun
Gleaming
On my wife’s
Soft brown hair
Just brushed back
Warm sleep
Clinging to
Every corner of her dress.
The woman
Who says she loves me
Puts up with me
Stands
Arms folded
Leaning against the counter
She is the only one
Who can say
“It’s right in front of your nose
Where it always is”
I look sheepishly
The ceramics twins
Smile back at me
In shiny silence
Knowing that without her
I wouldn’t have breakfast.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
