Ambrosia Emotion

   
Early in the morning,  
Early in the morning,  
I had the thought  
of sweet ambrosia.  
 
Like a daily psalm  
found in the Café Poem.  
Tacked to a wall  
where there was much  
discussion on my mother.  
 
An Easter morning long forgotten  
and all that was poured in it.  
The thought disappears into my sinew,  
my sinew opens with the sweet aroma.  
The aroma keeps burrow deep in my bones.