Purity

After she refused
to take a nap,
screamed and stomped

for forty minutes, woke
her little brother, snatched
the blue train from his hand

and flung it to the floor
where I was sure to
trample it, hurting my foot,

hurting the train, I’m asking
myself if I’d known it would feel
like this, would I have chosen

this life? Then my girl
asks for a banana, whole
and peeled and in her hand

and a glass of cold milk.
All I can see is
the banana’s

golden-whiteness as she
raises it to her mouth,
takes a bite,

the milk’s blue-whiteness
sloshing in her cup,
and I remember

the sweetness and coldness
she’s tasting, the way
everything is mixed.