From across the kitchen table
your kindliness becomes you.
The soup is homemade, nutritious
and piping hot. To the grumbling growl
of an empty tum, you lean forward,
chin pitched deep over trough, and
hoover in an appreciative symphony of
blow, suck, slurp.
I seethe and breathe:
‘Don’t do that!’
© Helen McIntosh
All rights reserved
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