Unsure of how I feel today, 
wanting to SAVOR 
yet knowing that some 
are BOUND to forget, some
will struggle and grieve

I stand at the stove, 
prod a pancake gently,
consider its doneness 
With a flip, I see too late 
that I am too soon 
it OOZED batter 
challenging my perceptions 

Smells elicit the past, 
a DOPEY smile on my face 
as I imagine kitchens of long ago
She, seated at the table, coffee steaming
He, at the stove, pancakes 
on the griddle. They talk 
about errands: a DOWEL 
for his latest project, groceries to buy

I, pajama-clad and slipper-shod, 
slide in between the words 
coming to lean in and wrap
child arms around my Mama
“Happy Mother’s Day,” I whisper

Georg’ann

FAINT scent of urine. 
HOUSE sealed, nothing fresh.
Throughout a COVER of neglect
Cobweb on the windowsill tchotchkes.
Faded peacock made of MODEL Magic,
spoon man and stretchy cat. 
Dead plant stalk still upright
held up with a DOWEL rod. 
Remnants of relationships
suspended. 
Attentions elsewhere. 

Heather