I remember one day
as ordinary as any other
I sashayed like wind into my
mother's kitchen
with the impatience of my youth.
Boldly declared
as I stared
into that pot of water and
uncooked rice,
"Ain't nothin' happening."
Chris, a family friend
who had placed the pot on the eye
to boil,
stepped over.
Let these words roll like eggs from
her tongue,
"There is something happening."
No lecture, no leer, no top of
finger in my face
just words plump with meaning.