other notions ~ Jim Zola

Lillian pines for Eugene’s laugh.
She tells the gals
the single life
has its advantages.
Still, she cooks for two.

Collards, mustard greens.
Boiled, strained. What’s left
could stock a soup or thicken gravy.

Lillian sips from a blue-chipped cup.
In dreams she looks into an owl’s nest
and finds Eugene held
in twigs and muddy feathers.

His eyes big as eggs,
mouth always open.