Crunchy
Crunchy cereal, morning light,
Cartoons humming soft and bright.
Little joys we often miss ...
Crunchy
The silence broke with a crunchy snap,
Not wood, not bone - nothing like that.
It echoed once, then twice, then more…
From just behind the closet door.
Epigraph
These two small poems came from a friendly challenge with my friend Dave, who offered the word “crunchy” and the rule: no more than four lines. I answered in kind with a pair, one light, one dark - both shaped within the same narrow frame. The first leans into warmth and ordinary joy; the second listens for something less kind in the same sound. Constraints, it turns out, can open doors in more ways than one.
GBS jr
2026
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