Some time back I remember
a day in late November
when every moment I seemed to be
a Cheerio Pick-Up Club member.
As I wandered through the market with my pack
and pulled items from shelves and off of the rack
a stray Cheerio or two I would see
as the items I tried neatly to stack.
Thus causing me to bend over and place
the strays in my pocket with untold grace
before someone might see the debris
and show a scowl on an unforgiving face.
These strays stayed stray a week or more
as I left them in my coat pocket by the door
and hurried to unpack my groceries
to make dinner for our party of four.
Much later on another day
when the banshees were screaming and raising hay
when my nerves pricked raw clearly
left me sore and for sanity I pray.
The sun was warm, the weather bright
and that jacket I left a fortnight
was in my hand for the laundry
when I reached in and pulled out a heartwarming sight.
Those Cheerios dropped so long ago
lay in my hand like a forgotten beaux
their beauty bright with days I'll miss
when my little ones will too soon grow and go.
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