Saturday morning
the sweet smell of waffles
made with great grandma's waffle maker
that we've had almost 29 years...
how long did she have it?
how far back does that sweet smell go?
v's organic raspberries blue berries
bim put out powdered sugar
and dom whipped the cream
then outside to the grocery store
and an oh so familiar smell rushes me
to some welcome place
revisited every year at this time
the smell of the dirt waking to the soaking rain
yet to be in the moment
to taste the sweetness of breakfast with my family
to feel the rain
and not rush forward
forcing my way into those places that hold the answers
to the questions that reverberate over, through
and all around
is anguish
stay right here
be present
in this sweet present moment
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