MONO ISSUE 2 - Flipbook - Page 39
SACRIFICES
by Gerry Stewart
My dusty muesli mocks me
when I once demanded pastries
served in a still-warm bed.
Long lie-ins replaced by a three-year-old
all elbows and heels in my ribs.
She wakes before dawn
with her arms full of cuddlers
and a list of demands.
Mornings are for finding lost gloves,
four random breakfasts
sometimes barely touched,
a constant sweeping of crumbs.
I try to avoid the temptation
of korvapuusti and pulla*
as my waistline steadily spreads with age,
with every calorie glanced at.
I have resigned myself to broken sleep
and gluten-free, tasteless breads,
to tea postponed, reheated or drunk cold.
And chia seeds,
though I’ve forgotten their purpose.
We no longer linger over the papers,
weekends juggle a chance to relax
with running them ragged
while making memories.
I am waiting for that glorious day
when one of them brings me
a cup of tea
and maybe some chocolate
that I don’t have to share.
*Finnish sweet rolls
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