Once, when my curls still tickled, only the tops of my ears,
Mum quietly ironed my daddy's pants - he ate his cold grits and eggs.
She thought I didn't see her see me watching the cat,
Claw at her leg - And so, I just asked,
"Why does déjà vu only come too late, for me to know what I should do?"
She wrinkled her nose, instead of sayin' and,
Singed her spider-leg fingers.
--
So, I sat there.
Somewhat, unsure.
--
"Baby," she said, as she shook her head, "You shouldn't fret over things like that."
She continued her ironin' - the cat kept clawin',
--
And, I sat there.
Somewhat, unsure.
--
I asked my daddy earlier, yesterday, if he would work late, down at the office.
He began saying some words, but very few were heard,
My attention smelled -
So much -
Like grits.
I saw the wine bottle stolen and my cookies still frozen,
Yesterday,
But, in a way,
Soon after the airport.
Must be missing my savannah home, too much.
© 2011 Elephants & Coyotes