Your Breakfasts

You made breakfasts to
die for before or after
sex and explained that

the root of taste is
memory. (I was your third
husband and the last.)

Now scrambling some eggs
my memory floods with joy
cracking them open.

Author: Tom D'Evelyn

Tom D'Evelyn is a private editor and writing tutor in Cranston RI and, thanks to the web, across the US and in the UK. He can be reached at D'Evelyn has a PhD in Comparative Literature from UC Berkeley. Before retiring he held positions at The Christian Science Monitor, Harvard University Press, Boston University and Brown University. He ran a literary agency for ten years, publishing books by Leonard Nathan and Arthur Quinn, among others. Before moving to Portland OR he was managing editor at Single Island Press, Portsmouth NH. He blogs at and other sites.

One thought on “Your Breakfasts”

  1. The sudden uplift of the final stanza helps us re-see the first two in the light of the joy of remembering as an opening both to the beyond of the past and to the ontological otherness of that which gives beings to be. And we also resee the poem’s final stanza — the exquisite phrase ‘cracking them open’ and the vicacity of the image of eggs, especially their bright yolks–in the light of how memory and love open the self and our cracks re not just cracks and breaks but openings.


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