Driving With My Daughter By Robert Lloyd Jaffe

I watched my daughter
eat a doughnut today,
in the mirror.
We smiled that smile
to each other.
Her face, covered in chocolate,
and sprinkles
on her pink dress,
and the chocolate too
on her dress.
We smiled again,
and knew
it could be cleaned,
and we could start
all over again
tomorrow–
or so it seemed.