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And she dances for oranges

and she dances for orangeson mottled linoleum floors
this child of deep brown curls.
In the kitchen, her mother
furrowed brows and chapped hands
a decision to make. She looks
in the cupboard for ideas.
A half hour in her hands
and dinner to fix. She smiles
at the young one, still dancing
orange pulp mess and all
adrift in her own happy world.
The dilemma is solved! An orange
she picks up to zest and use.
From a heart blessed with love:
a dinner to serve and enjoy.

yldara 200107


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