HOW DO I LOVE THEE? (for my sister, who understands) Today you asked for a bite of my breakfast sausage and I gave you all that I had left - at least two-thirds - insisting I really didn't want it and, in fact, had debated whether to cook sausage at all, sausage to complete my breakfast of steel cut oats and fruit. I was happy when you popped that beautifully browned perfectly spiced breakfast sausage into your mouth with no idea of my sacrifice, for such is the nature of love.
Poem Notes: For a poem about eating someone else’s food from a somewhat different perspective, see This Is Just To Say by William Carlos Williams. My poem is addressed to my wife but dedicated to my sister, who has had too many lessons in sacrifice. I love them both.
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Joseph Neely, all rights reserved.