Milk splashes on cereal
and a drop makes its way to
the black granite countertop.
and a drop makes its way to
the black granite countertop.
I pour my love into a bowl
of white bone china, and serve
it to you with hesitant hands.
“I see a chip in this one,
a crack in that ; this bowl has lost
it’s glaze,” you say, as I keep
pouring from bowl to bowl
until all that remains is
a sad puddle on the countertop.
One response to “My grandmother said an offering is a prayer”
I see you’ve written a lot of poetry here…; it says, at least, 14 pages full…; and, I’m still reading down half-way through page 1…so, not yet even so much as ‘started’. Wow, the ‘quality’ of this stuff you write…it’s both powerful, and, amazing. I have no doubt I will easily be able to stick to reading through all 14 pages…that’s saying an awful lot…coming from somebody who suffers from ADD/Attention Deficit Disorder(very ‘short’ attention span). In short, your writing is, well and truly, GREAT! 😉
The other thing I noted is your poetry doesn’t tend to be hugely long…; they are mostly short poems…consisting of nor more than a page in length…; yet ‘all’ are exceptional, and, quite truly, spell binding.
I’m so glad I discovered seeing your work, today; and, that I decided to go and check out your web site link from on AP/AllPoetry.com.
Good luck to you…; take care…; and, all of my sincere best wishes may follow you, always.