For my birthday breakfast,
she made me pancakes with fruit and bacon.
Now she sits grinning in the hazy noon light
through a window well flanking the fireplace,

slouched in her easy chair, legs crossed over the arm.
The strands of silver she finally decided
not to darken at the temples
are evident and, yes, distinguished.

She starts to tell me how she would paint
her ideal world and, while I’ve heard
some of this before, I think:
She’s capable of surprising me every day
for the rest of my natural life.

Did you notice, I say, last night
when they asked me to make a wish
before blowing out the one candle,
I said there’s nothing I need to wish for?

Larry Beresford is an Oakland poet. This poem was an Honorable Mention at this year’s Benicia Love Poetry Contest.

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