it's 10 a.m. and i'm thinking apples and oats i'm thinking apples and oatmeal my attention gingerly floats into my kitchen and into my meal
i sit and eat a crunchable juicy green apple every bite is lucid and every bite is ample all the troubles melt on my tongue all the trite things are out and gone
i cover the oat flakes with boiling water they widen and swell each oat is a well some butter for softnes and then i feel my oats and i know - fussing is nonsence