Saturday’s Gift

In time to taste the last slice
Of apricot haze before morning sunshine —

I thought —

To be the giver.

Peanut butter syrup simmering on the stove and
An industrious waffle iron manufacturing perfect chocolate grids:
The gift of a warm breakfast before a cold day of snowy mountain fun.

Lanky Redwood forest of boys
Towers over me in the kitchen

(in the way)

And finds a noisy path to the table.
One refill of every plate and then
A wave to the over-packed compact car.

“Thanks, mum, for the breakfast!”

The true gift of Saturday,
Is carried on February air to my full heart.

6 thoughts on “Saturday’s Gift”

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