Pancakes
A pome
My two-year-old is learning to talk
I pour syrup on her pancakes
and she says, “Syrup,” so seriously, with such reverence, that I laugh.
It’s a sad laugh maybe
At something I’ve lost
That reverence for every moment.
My two-year-old is learning to talk
I pour syrup on her pancakes
and she says, “Syrup,” so seriously, with such reverence, that I laugh.
It’s a sad laugh maybe
At something I’ve lost
That reverence for every moment.
Saying "syrup" to myself today as a repetitive continuous mantra. Syrup all day. A drone of syrup. Thanks Carson.
Powerful and lovely