Oh, bowl of cereal
Dry and flaky
Raisins staring up
With wrinkled faces
Longing for a bath
The spoon, the spoon
Ready and waiting
Waiting, waiting
To dive in and out
With expectations
And there I stand,
Hunger brewing
Breakfast calling
Waiting, waiting
For each sweet bite
Not this morning,
No, not today
Sniffing gently at the cap
Soured lightly
The cold milk’s wrath
—Stephen Caldwell
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