Poem: Innocent Jello

I saw the red drops left behind,
making sure it didn't slosh too high,
the jello in the tray,
little cubes that were cut when solid,
four across and three deep.

I scooped them out with my fingers,
swallowed them whole,
not knowing the gelatin inside,
the stuff once belonging in bones and skin,
animals long dead and not buried.

I remember the delicious taste,
cherry red tongue and fingers,
this was a special time,
time spent with my loved one,
much older than me but wiser,
a mixture of different colors in her hair.

I know age makes a difference,
seeing actions through a wider lens,
knowledge gained during time passed,
awareness of the red jello today,
still remains a highlight.
This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is 2020pc.jpg

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