For Kevin who tossed the word  (so, blame him, or maybe bring                                                                                                                                 him a buttered scone)  

I’m not French, but we do have a little bit in common    

I’m a scintilla of soup (well, maybe a bowl if it’s lentil)  

A twinkling of fireflies (well, maybe a whole sky of them)  

A fragment of words (no, definitely a complete sentence, unless it’s poetry, then it’s a   tossup)  

A linger of salt on the tongue (but don’t tell my doctor)  

A scatter of lilies (well, more like an armload)  

A 5-letter dash of wordle (it’s an addiction thing)  

A risk of wind  (well, maybe just a soft breeze that gently wafts my hair and doesn’t throw dirt in my eyes)  

A scoosh of blackberry wine (well, maybe the bottle, yes, make it the bottle)  

A dribble of butter (unless it’s on corn, then bring on Wisconsin)  

A speck, a nubbin, a token
Who the hell knows   

We’re all patchwork babies
Searching for a quilt