Milk Toast Poem by Cee Bea

The day begins as
off blue hues rise
in cold February patterns
east of my last dream

Crisp and cutting,
patterns emerge
painted by the son himself
critiqued by the world

a journal,
honors your beginning
smiles beckon the tide
to rise or fall away
while I, In a shade of
white
offer my body as redemption

my mind.. as always
races to an unseen line
that equates to a finish
or
a sight of you
and some milk toast
waiting for me.