Breakfast Rite
Greg Huteson

To place the spoon beside
the clean ceramic bowl.

Banana’s near at hand
as is a dullish knife.

To lift the box of flakes
or brightly colored loops.

To fold back cardboard flaps
and shake the crisp light bits.

To tip and deftly pour
the contents of the box

into the fragile bowl,
but so as not to breach

the vessel’s shallow sides.
Enough but not too much.

To slice banana thin
and drop each sliver on

the mounded loops or flakes—
unstable congeries.

To forage for the milk.
It must be in the fridge.

To pour it on the pile
but slowly, not to splash.

To stash the fickle milk
back in the frigid fridge.

At last then, time to sit
and slip the silver spoon

from cloth to bowl to mouth
to break the past night’s fast.

But what about the tea?
No kettle’s on the stove.