Ode to Joanne:I saw you today, All bold and empowered With your once tiny bundle of joy. You told me to go home and write, To make sure that I didn’t squander “the gift”. I said I would. I lied. Instead, I worried through the rest of my shopping, Chose perfect avocados, bananas, eggs. Hundreds of eggs. I packed and upacked the bags, Baked two cakes while I checked my emails And sent text messages and organized Meals for some people who need And in the background I listened to a talk Given by another woman who helps me breathe. I hustled and bustled and busied and raced, And in between cakes, A golden nugget, A pearl much brighter than all others Fell and landed neatly on the tip of my tongue, Now parched and anxious for it is after 1pm And I am yet to eat or drink or sit. But the pearl stayed and bloomed and billowed, While cakes rose and dishes were washed and returned to their places on neat shelves or in cupboards. I have left a trail of flour on the bench to remind me of that smooth kernel of an idea while I danced into the shower, washed hair, soaped, dried and in my mind composed this Ode to Joanne. And so, I will write about Grandparents. Other people’s … perhaps my own … in short vignettes That idle between shopping and baking and cooking and cleaning. So I saw you today, And you told me to write. And now, I will.