Still Life

If my dad put powdered sugar on his pancakes
I could say the snow sifting down on my yard 

is like the powdered sugar dad puts on his pancakes
regular as the seasons every Sunday, plate posed

floral and white on the stone galaxy of the table,
so many grains of light gathering close against the black,

a knife and fork, a glass of milk, a dish under the butter, 
the rustic pleats of the stoneware milk jug

labelled MILK the way a still life of a fruit dish is
labelled STILL LIFE WITH FRUIT DISH, and store-bought

syrup because we had the last of the syrup
from the bush together this past Christmas,

but my dad doesn’t go in for such extravagances 
as putting powdered sugar on his pancakes

when he grabs his PC Butttermilk Mix and camera
to celebrate another week on Earth.