swirls ever around me,
the smell of it reminding me
of the danger surrounding
my daring daughters,
impels me to push against
their ever-possible deaths,
eclipse any nut allergens,
home-baked or otherwise
unlisted on packaging,
while I carry epinephrine and
benedryl to every ballpark or
schoolday drill, even to church,
our red-cross first line of defense.
first published in Time of Singing
©2011 Bonnie Manion