Bread crumbs and bay leaves

by Emalisa Rose


Shrinking in stature,
a myriad of maladies wraps
round her shriveling body,

enduring calamities, as life’s
now elusive, someone else's
to enjoy.

In between rantings, in
the old mother tongue

she’d remember -

the baby she nursed through
the night,

the two secret ingredients in
her special sauce, that she’d never
divulge to us, and

how the sparrows would wait 
for her, top of the morning, to toss
out some bread crumbs.


* * * * *

When not writing poetry, Emalisa Rose enjoys crafting and birding. She volunteers in animal rescue, helping to tend to a cat colony in her neighborhood. Living by the beach, provides much of the inspiration for her art. Her work has appeared in Writing in a Woman's Voice, Spillwords and other fine places. Her latest collection is On the whims of the cross currents, published by Red Wolf Edition.