Spreading his ample bottom on the cushioned chair, his gaze
caressed the colorful bowl.
The taste buds tickled and saliva lubricated the
cave of his mouth.
The smile widened to form wrinkles at the corner of his
spectacled eyes.
The unsteady shivering hand brought the spoonful close and the
dentures chomped
away greedily the crisp bell peppers and lettuce.
The slightly chilled yogurt dressing brought solace to his mouth
ulcers.
“Comfort food”, he uttered under his breath, his companion
for the past six decades.
And so is the constipation, a faithful shadow.
The salad bowl was licked clean.
Contented.
pic courtesy google image
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