I look down from tossing quinoa and marinating turkey
And she has transformed my kitchen into a garden
Of trees that tower tall and straight in a manicured row.
“These are my babies,” she announces, triumphant…
Then…”What do they say?” she asks.
“You tell me,” I whisper in awe, knowing
She watches every flicker and twitch in my face.
“Goo goo, ga-ga,” she decides without hesitation,
And my joy erupts in a fountain of laughter.