Creamed Spinach Poem by Glen Kappy

About to be eleven,5'2" tall and growing still
and talking of boys and who's got a crush on who
we're already thinking the days are coming soon
you'll no longer spend your Friday nights with us.

And I imagine a time ten years or more from now
when you'll be served creamed spinach
and a feeling warm and pleasant will rise within
and you'll wonder at its source.

Then maybe holding to that feeling, probing
you'll remember Friday nights for dinner or Saturdays for lunch
Nana steamed the spinach then made the roux in a separate pot
then mixed them with salt and pepper for this a favorite dish.

And maybe you'll remember the nutritional yeast on cottage cheese or tofu
and red potatoes or basmati rice you ate with it
remember us, this house, and this room I'm typing in
where you spent hours sleeping, working, and watching your shows.