Heirlooms

My waffle iron is an old man

who groans as he bestows

dried parcels and dark stories

from breakfasts long ago.

 

My waffle iron is an old man,

whose joints creak and shake

and every lifting of his head

is another threat of break.

 

My waffle iron is an old man

though my children leap with vim

and run and dance along their way;

He can’t keep up with them.

 

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