Like honey, like butter

7:11 this morning when the fiery
Thing appeared again. We were
Eating leftover waffles and jam
When warm orange light spread
Generously across our plates and
Bodies, made rectangular shapes
The size of windows on our walls

My 8 year old was talking about
A game he’d play at school later
That day, something about 12th
Graders dressing up as dragons
That needed to be defeated by
The other kids, that old triumph
Of good over evil. His voice

Boomed as his little brothers
Interrupted, wanting their waffles
Cut up, wanting water, wanting
To sit in my lap, just wanting
My full attention as much as
He did too. And I don’t know

How to split myself cleanly in
Those situations. Sometimes
I feel there isn’t enough of me
To go around. But this morning
I watched how the light did it
Like honey, like butter, lavishly
Slathering everything at once