A Donut
by Justin Michael Robinson

I took a donut from the table
in the workplace break-room.

Normally, I am a plain, glazed consumer,
but today all that was in the box was

the unexpected chocolate glazed with sprinkles:
explosions of pink, white, and fuchsia on a russet sky.

As I ate, my muse became a metaphor for life.
Rooting me onward, telling me with lighthearted wisdom

to venture off into realms of daydreamed castles-in-the-air
amidst a dissatisfying day:

the kneaded and fried yeast-base
transmuted into a mother giving what all she could
to see her son happy.

Copyright 2023 by Red River Review. First Rights Reserved. All other rights revert to the authors.
No work may be reproduced or republished without the express written consent of the author.