Sunday Seedlings Poetry Prompt
When the house surrendered to sleep
and even the clock softened its breath,
I entered the kitchen
as though trespassing on sacred ground.
There, beneath the small and merciless light,
rested my son’s unopened snack.
It bore no inscription of ownership,
yet its allegiance was clear.
I stood in deliberation.
Hunger spoke first.
The wrapper answered.
Its quiet crackle
sounded louder than confession.
I ate.
I buried the evidence
with the fragile hope
that time would conspire with me.
But morning is an honest witness.
“Dad, where is it?”
In that question
fell the full weight of my authority.
I confessed.
I promised restitution.
I swore renewal.
And learned:
A father’s dignity
can collapse
over something
no larger than a handful of crumbs.
This is a wonderful reflection! You wrote an amazing poem. Thank you for sharing with us!
When the house surrendered to sleep
and even the clock softened its breath,
I entered the kitchen
as though trespassing on sacred ground.
There, beneath the small and merciless light,
rested my son’s unopened snack.
It bore no inscription of ownership,
yet its allegiance was clear.
I stood in deliberation.
Hunger spoke first.
The wrapper answered.
Its quiet crackle
sounded louder than confession.
I ate.
I buried the evidence
with the fragile hope
that time would conspire with me.
But morning is an honest witness.
“Dad, where is it?”
In that question
fell the full weight of my authority.
I confessed.
I promised restitution.
I swore renewal.
And learned:
A father’s dignity
can collapse
over something
no larger than a handful of crumbs.
This is a wonderful reflection! You wrote an amazing poem. Thank you for sharing with us!