One autumn night he took his 4 year old daughter to a dive diner off airport road
The one with formica tables and red padded chairs cut and stuffing exposed
Sitting with strangers who stared at the girl up too late
He said: 'Order anything you want'
She said: 'Rice pudding with cim-a-mon'
As she savored the sweet creamy cloud
He began - 'Mom will be home in two days time. Don't worry everything will be just fine.'
She glanced up and nodded, her mouth contemplating the separation of grain from cream
YOU ARE READING
north on 50 - canadian interior poems
Şiiras long as we live we create and break relations with fantastic efficiency. when attachments prove inconvenient, its not always the other that agrees. its the will changing people, places and things. answers in the unanswered. a pregnant pause.
