Day # 306: Poem Group Two

#306

Tiny Trees and Happy Plates

Eating supper

with Liam,

I pick out my broccoli florettes

and carefully place them 

on his plate.

I eat the bland blocks 

of the yellow-green stalks.

He offers me little bites in return,

and tells me 

it's very, very good, Mommy.

He shovels applesauce

into his mouth

globs sticking to the corners

of his smile.

I scrape the last bite 

from the bowl

and feed it to him.

Talk of tiny trees

and happy plates and bowls.

There will come a day

when broccoli 

is merely a good source

of fiber

and dishes no longer

have the capacity 

for emotions.

But for now, 

I'll eat the bland stalks

and smile 

at my boy

growing big and strong

across from me

at the kitchen table.

                      c GRACE

November pink

               creeps up slowly

               from behind the russet  mountains.

Begins to layer in brighter shades

sky a fuchsia

with dark behind.

Suggesting

Adjusting

Re-arranging

Clattered thoughts

tumbling, trying to find

their proper place

where they just slip in

settle down for the winter.

timing is everything

my watch slowed down

I lost my rhythm

I stumbled in the hall.

Something's not quite right

               ajar

               out of whack

               just out of reach

Something's not quite right

               slipped

               turned over

               just past my hand.

Suggest

Adjust

Re-arrange

November pink

               crept into my bed.

Attached itself to my soul

and ready or not

here it comes

ready or not

clattered thoughts remain

with the dark close behind.

My Word: Pam Mcrae; this is a valuable read for those of you interested in adoption.