Momma's Kitchen

As the morning light breaks

over the palms,

Trickling through the open windows

Tickling my soft smile,

As the aroma of toast and butter

wash through the room.

All is quiet, only the morning birds

Left to sing their songs…

A bountiful plate

Of eggs, toast, and bacon

Brought to me by life herself,

With a beautiful smile,

Arms open wide.

Reminding me that Momma’s Kitchen

Smooths away even the most rigid of rocks.

This poem is about: 
My family

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