Tined forks taunt me from the drawer
as I scan spaces while scrambling eggs.
I cast aside papers full of yesterday’s events,
preferring instead to float between lines
The black dog settles in her basket,
lulled by the scent of windowsill narcissi
wafting in on Eostre’s breath.
Though we no longer speak in spoons,
let us, just for today, sheathe our knives,
untangle our tongues and sit quietly together,
enjoying our eggs.
~ Eostre is the Celtic goddess of rebirth, new beginnings and fertility and is seen as Spring personified.