orange liqueur

summer grass has gone to seed
basil is purple with end of summer
somebody is going to die
I'm really scared
Robert lost a foot and his sight
Dick can hardly breathe
my heart's going
things break

I have an old sugar bowl
cream colored with flowers
one flowered plate from an old set
a tea pot without a lid
a cracked cup

we're a matched set
blue eyes, freckles
children running in the street
lined up at the table at lunch
I made Sunday breakfast
bacon crisp, eggs
hot enchiladas from the corner
Daddy breezing in from his walk
eight bowls of oatmeal in the morning

skates at Christmas
race down the sidewalk in the cold evening
sparks fly
red wagons
deliver the fat
Sunady paper
share the comics
sweet peaches from a neighbor's tree

we sit at the table talking
hands cut the air
vintage cloth
bright pitchers of milk and coffee
orange liqueur in the sorbet
I'm really scared