She studies her oatmeal with brown eyes
Pokes at it with her spoon
Makes valleys and ridges
Then smooths them
Thinks it must last her 'til noon.
She lifts a small, rounded bite to her lips
That disappears into her mouth
Like a tourist boarding an airplane
Headed for someplace down south.
She moves her jaw slowly,
Stares into space
Finally, she swallows it down.
Then back to her bowl
The spoon returns
And back to her face, a frown.