11-14-2021, 08:23 AM
(This post was last modified: 11-14-2021, 08:26 AM by Tiger the Lion.)
Sundays
On Sundays
Dad would start early.
By three he was terrifying.
My sister would hide
in her room
and leave it for me to watch
Mom,
anxious in the kitchen;
knowing her value
would be decided
by how the roasties
and Yorkshire Puddings
turned out,
preparing custard slices
we might never taste.
On Sundays
Dad would start early.
By three he was terrifying.
My sister would hide
in her room
and leave it for me to watch
Mom,
anxious in the kitchen;
knowing her value
would be decided
by how the roasties
and Yorkshire Puddings
turned out,
preparing custard slices
we might never taste.