Waking to a blare
of traffic horns
and curses,
I remember his touch.

I sauté sweet onion
in my little iron skillet,
break eggs in a blue bowl,
beat them hard.

The fox has been
in the hen house again;
brown feathers blow
against the fence.

I pour egg over onion,
lift edges with spatula,
runny portions flow
beneath. When all is set

I sprinkle cheddar,
roll from one edge,
plate. Not quite crepe,
not quite omelet,

but hunger adds flavor.
The whole empty week
stretches out before me.
Illusion is lost.

Ann Howells edited Illya’s Honey for eighteen years. Recent books: So Long As We Speak Their Names (Kelsay Books, 2019) and Painting the Pinwheel Sky (Assure Press, 2020). Chapbooks include: Black Crow in Flight and Softly Beating Wings, both published through contests. Her work appears in many small press and university journals. She is a multiple Pushcart nominee.