Sometimes tell tale signs inform conscious minds.
Smudges on a windowpane.
Forgotten cave paintings of toddlers, dried and preserved.
Whispers of a certain perfume in the powder room.
Taunts: Your mother’s come and gone, and you’ve missed her.
Voice boxes are dead giveaways.
Flat tones beg for help.
Complaints cannot be satisfied.
Ebullience knows no bounds.
Too much chocolate, a quick fix.
Eating all vegetables, a desire to be lean.
Soft, unspoiled hands are genteel.
Sandpaper hands, manual labor.
On cloudy days I muse
what my tell tale signs might be.
Hope that in my kitchen’s call
you find generosity.
Lynn Benjamin
November 22, 2003