Once
I held your plump three year old hands
While we danced around the kitchen and
Filled with the faster fiddle laughter
Of Powder Milk Biscuits
Powering our wiggling, giggling hips
We sang.
Now
Your too cool indie pop Spotify playlist plays
As you ask me to keep an eye on your sautéing onions
So you can step outside to select the best bits of basil and kale
From the garden to add to the shredded zucchini with cheese
You're fixin to feed our family.
You say, “I feel sorry for my teachers.
All the virtual kids look virtually broken inside.”
Someday
In a kitchen I can sense but not yet see
While Someone Great cleans up after a vegetarian feast you will fix
You’ll be singing a song of your own
On guitar or maybe ukulele
About how I used to sit and write poems while you did all the work.
I will smile and nod from my ghostly perch
And whisper “That’s my favorite. Play that one again.“
Mike Gadzik is an engineer by day and poet by night. He has been a featured reader at WFOP Central-Fox Valley’s Poetry Unlocked series. He was born in Milwaukee, grew up on the banks of the Mississippi River, and lives in Appleton with his wife and two teenage children.