Milkshakes

The milkshake maker

sat on grandma’s kitchen table.

Each Sunday

we’d grab the bendy straws

and drink milkshakes together.

My brother, my sister, my cousins, and I

will never forget it.

Our milkshake date

at a “ma and pa” diner

was one for the books.

Two straws in one milkshake

to signify our love.

The checkered table

and leather booth

will never forget it.

The milkshake maker

collected dust.

With a $1 yard sale sticker

haphazardly stuck on

the top.

When it sold

we began to forget it.

The milkshake maker

could not love us

like grandma did.

The secret ingredient

was compassion.

I poured my whole being

into loving you,

into making you happy.

And when my cup was empty,

you weren’t there.

Two straws cross

in a melted diner milkshake.

Tears drip

onto the cold checkered table.

You deserve to be loved as selflessly as you love others.

#2023