Owen and Maggie Jo's Birthday Cake by Terry Everett
I'm slower now, grandfather to three too fast for me; the youngest is Owen who climbs into my lap, drawn to one of my famous "Dual Pad Writing Pads" that all three love; it's Maggie Jo's birthday; she's been the one of this household these six years drawn to the pens and pads of my famous bag (Papaw Busy's Big Purse); but today it's Owen drawn for the first time to draw on my pad; I realize now that his mind had been pre-drawing for some time; he drew a circle (true to the child uncorrupted by untrained adults' teaching); then he said, "Put some sprinkles on it, Papaw." I didn't get it. He put the sprinkles on. He said, "Put some choc-choc on it, Papaw." Finally, it dawned on me: a cake, but why was I surprised to hear Maggie scream later: "Owen, you ruined it." (He'd opened her birthday cake and drawn straight into the icing like Matisse cutting into color, re-discovering the child within himself, as I now re-discover the child within myself writing again thanks to Owen showing me how to cut into this white page and put dark chocolate cake on it, with thanks to Angie for restoring the icing on Maggie Jo's cake, with thanks to all who made me feel good about my gifts, even the one that got Owen into trouble: dangerous white page and pen. |
Everett's poetry has appeared in TAPESTRY (DSU Division of Languages and Literature art-literary magazine) and numerous magazines and journals. He is Assistant Professor of English Emeritus from DSU where he taught courses in composition and literature.
Sprints
Uncle Bob's Empire
In April Somewhere In The South
Tao T Gets Two
A Stand of Trees
For Mom and Uncle Cecil, Her Brother
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