I wrote this poem in that liminal space between a lumpectomy and lab results, in an effort to record the tender clumsiness of a beloved trying to create a distraction from worry and grief. I planned for the ministrations of the old waitress but the redemption of the breakfast platter snuck up on me. Though why should it have, when there's nothing more loving than feeding someone and nothing move sacred than love?

Allisa Cherry lives in the Northwest where she runs workshops for immigrants and refugees and is an associate editor at West Trade Review. In 2024 she received the Wheelbarrow Books award from the RCAH Center for Poetry. Her book, An Exodus of Sparks, is forthcoming from MSU Press.

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