breakfast with a view on our garden

Drinking milk
through a glass straw,
I saw
how sad I was
for the apples we lost.

Feeding milk to my baby boy
I enjoy
silky skin and a big pancake
for the sake
of being alive

but still,
I rethink of the apples
and the shame for
not having being there
where I promised to care.

How many days again
of pure joy
will I throw away?
Today
I will try and dream
of a better yesterday.


how would you make the poetess happier?