Soft blankets, warmly clasped between hands
Pulled over head, to block out the light.
Not today. Not any day She says, defiant. I object.
She pads softly down the stairs,
Skipping the fifth one –
It always creaks, letting you know she’s there.
Wafting scent of brown butter in the kitchen,
So sweet, heavenly divine.
Angels at the mixing bowl;
Crying tears of joy into the batter.