Pieces
Everyone wants a piece of me…
that’s what a large part of life
is. Wife, children, friends and
neighbors – little love bites for
attention~ the cats. And what
matters most, at the end of a
day, a life? – instead of left whole
I would rather have been fondly
portioned out, a good taste left on the sampling
palates of acquaintances. Relationships are
more triangles than circles...a
few pointed edges, pricked as
we go round one another. In mine
at the centers real hearts....
Squares not pointed enough,
and circles rather boring.
Pieces are portions and portions
once an entire pie. Apples,
cinnamon and lots of brown sugar --
what the heck! Sweets are great
preservatives…. Maybe in charge
of bakeries my destiny if flavorful
decadence occasionally allowed in
the Here-after? I mean, if castles
and pavement of gold, why not pastries?
Do dentists ever make it to heaven?
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