Brandon

"Tata" by Brandon

Every morning, as the dew kissed the grass,
mother dropped me off at mama and tata's.
Tata greeted us with many kisses on our cheeks.
Mother left, handing me to tata
who carried me all the way
to the kitchen counter next to the stove.
Same routine, asking how I'd like my eggs.
Scrambled, I said, looking into his gentle eyes.
Apparently, he did not hear my response.
Stumbling across the counter,
before falling to the floor.
My four-year-old instincts thought tata
had performed a new trick to keep me smiling,
but he never did wake up.