Breakfast

By Justine C. Tajonera

We break the fast
together,
opening doors from
our dreams,
yawning, gathering
ourselves
together.

We break the bread
together,
spreading cream cheese
and strawberry jam,
taking coffee,
vitamins
while sunlight
streams onto
the table.

I could live
for this morning
ritual,
the smiles we give
each other,
the question:
what will you do
today?

I kiss each one
of you,
before I
leave,
taking you
with me
all through
the day.

(Jan. 13, 2010)
Image from http://www.flickr.com/photos/darwinbell/3572741098/

Family Feast

by Justine C. Tajonera

Once a week,
we gather around
a table and
eat.
At least,
those of us
who can make
it.

It used to be
that a whole troop
of us could crowd
an aunt's home.

Lately, migrations
have taken their
toll.

The table, teeming
with food
and crowded with
noisy children,
is absent.

This morning,
I received a Facebook
post
from my brother:
I miss you.

A hug and my head
on his shoulder
would have
sufficed.

Even with affection
never lacking,
the distances
are
great.

So, we do our best
to go on with imperfect
tools of expression
and celebrate family
in our own
ironically
disparate
ways.

(Dec. 7, 2009)

Image from http://www.flickr.com/photos/wurz/2521462049/