Coloring eggs was family time,
mixing all the hues
with a tsp of vinegar
to make the colors bright,
I liked to draw my own design
invisible, magic,
that only showed when dropped into
a coffee mug of paint,
Carefully, I took my time,
not wanting this to end,
leaving one alone in blue
hoping they wouldn’t see,
and no one else would have an egg
a deeper blue than me.
My dad’s in his coffee cup
to watch it become brown,
I did it later with my kids,
and now they carry on,
Family time and bonding,
a happy memory,
Acceptance and creating
our own identity.
(just a little Easter memory)
Tags: poetry
Doctor Grandma 
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