Frozen Corn

After the chaos, quiet
the cascade of injuries
quiet reflection on facts of life –
She cannot fly, and
thank God for frozen corn
and a clipped bag.
It is great for a bump
on her leg and for snacking

A welt growing on her five-year old leg
when she didn’t clear the table;
another on mom’s knee,
from the flying tumbler,
the shower of cola across the room
A third on dad’s foot
where the frozen lasagna landed
while searching for frozen corn

January 5, 2007 21:06


All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,070+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.