The same old silver grater, clear
glass bowl, dented wooden spoon used
to make round applesauce cake for
first birthdays 
today 
made muffins for freshman and senior 
year. Instead of watching from your 
wooden high chair, bass boomed behind 
closed bedroom 
doors 
while green granny smith apples, bright 
orange carrots joined honey, oats, almond
flour for you. Another day of
beautiful childhood
fleeting
before lovesick eyes not done soaking 
up all the wondrous firsts, seconds
of motherhood’s dance. Don’t blink they
tell you;
blink
blink
blink