Tonight's Poet Corner: Sonnet Solstice #288
My Uncle Jack by Belinda Roddie My uncle Jack made pancakes every night and waffles every morning, golden brown and topped with bacon, syrup, and thick, bright yellow butter sold locally in town. My uncle Jack drank beer for breakfast, and he only sipped on coffee when the moon had fully risen in the sky. His hands would tremble afterward, but he would soon be laughing and dancing a merry jig, swooping my aunt up in his hairy arms and almost causing her to lose her wig which she still wore to ward off chemo's harms to her. My uncle Jack ate pancakes every night yet lived to ninety: He was quite a sight!