“Hole in it”

Sage CohenSage poetry and prose4 Comments

he says, seated on his knees
in the high red stool, belly pressed

to the edge of the gray counter. My son
who has graduated from single words to

third person omniscient: Theo climb chair,
Theo peel orange, Theo look out window,

points to this strange, broken piece of toast
I am wincing from the toaster to his plate.

We contemplate the hole and agree
on the solution of blueberry jam.

As I stab the knife into the fancy jar
and swish sweetness over the flaw,

he chants Theo eat it, Theo eat it,
Theo eat it.
And I think how alike

we are, anchoring action in narrative
as if this might make the moment

hold on a bit longer, as if in naming
something right, we release it

like steam from a pot
whose meal is complete.

4 Comments on ““Hole in it””

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *