Morning Ceremony

Jasmine Pen

It was the summer holiday.

We couldn’t close an eye.

Waiting for the ceremonies to begin,

the sun to thread its threads,

the newspaper to arrive.

The first to catch, the first to read.

Shah! Close your eyes, mother’s coming.

Everyone knew her place.

I used to make the breakfast.

Fried eggs, its smell penetrated my nose.

We gathered... talked... laughed,

sometimes gossiped.

The sunrise now... changed.

I’m their children’s aunt.

We can’t close an eye.

The sound of their children crying

penetrates my ears...

I’m still in the kitchen,

But this time, for their children.

it’s still the summer holiday...

Photo by Olivia Basile on Unsplash