mulled with brown sugar, cinnamon, and nutmeg,
served stiff and firm
with buttered toast at 6 AM--
just before leaving for the Boy Scout Camporee.
My father's long, tired face,
punctuated by a crooked smile
that was crimped on by a long graveyard shift,
looks on with satisfaction
while his son finishes a bowl of oatmeal.
My Father's OatmealPosted: Dec. 19, 2006