I made blueberry pancakes today
Plump blueberries
Fresh maple syrup from Vermont
Butter from France
The kind you liked so well
Served them on antique dishes
You know the ones we found in Nantucket
Fresh coffee with cream
There were even flowers on the table
For a moment
I thought I could see you sitting there
Laughing at me
For having flour on my nose
Remembering breakfasts so long ago
I never liked to eat alone
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2 comments:
eating is one particular moment when one can notice loneliness. This is a wonderful, touching poem. You made me stop and think.
yes...there is just something about eating alone.
Gustavia
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