Sierra V. Fedorko

Five old bowls on the kitchen counter, Dad gets home from work, hello! Dishes in the sink again, and goldfish on the floor.

Wash up, kids, it’s time to eat. Homemade chicken noodle soup, and tomorrow we will repeat. But maybe Tuesday dinner is chicken nuggets made from frozen, sliced potatoes, canned green beans.

Well, that’s the love story, you did ask. If you want me to write it, I will.

But good luck, and I wish you well. I can never quite describe this love as it is, and you with all your movie magic can’t capture it in whole.

Best to stick to your old fairytales, and me to my old dinner bowls. This story is much too alive to tell.

And anyway,
I’ve only got one take.

–S.V.F. / Chicken Noodle Soup

read more:

Note to Self (you can fall apart)

Sticks & Stones Will Break My Heart

Motherhood by Laundry Load – poem of transformation