A Memory Postponed – Breakfast in Bed

A Memory Postponed– Breakfast in Bed
Alone in a king bed
I wake
to footsteps
down stairs.
A light sleeper,
I register each window shake
and sliding door creak.
But on this morn
little feet slap
along wooden floor.
The pantry door opens
and shuts
and opens
rustling of plastic
shatters silence in the house.
I am not supposed to be up.
A five-year-old boy
tells me,
I’ll let you know
when to wake.
But it is too late.
So I wait.
for my reward
which comes on a tray –
a bowl brimming
with vanilla pudding and colored Loops
garnished with raisins atop.
In one Sunday morning,
he manages to cover
three food groups –
and ground that
most men will not.


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