Monday, May 19, 2014


Dry, waiting in the bowl, they glisten in their saccharine gowns, then they float like so many tiny, ill-fated life preservers. Milk-wet, lightly coated in sugar, crispy for those first frantic moments, then soggy like miniature, friable sponges.  Rarely, a lucky breakfaster will find one that is glassed over--Oh! the joy of that honey webbing.  

Cheerios, part of this complete breakfast, now dripping down the cabinet and becoming breakfast for the dog. The circle of life in milky relief on the floor. 

Fuzzy tongue and abraded roof are left behind as the mop follows the work of the dog. Breakfast, part of this complete day. Sodden on the floor while the rain falls outside.

Tomorrow I'll skip breakfast.

1 comment:

  1. Your post of August 5, 2010: the photo of the cloud with the silver lining and a tree at the bottom left corner that goes with "Of the Father's Love Begotten": Where did you get that photo? I have several almost identical pictures! Pretty coincidental!


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