Soup
By lenchenelf
Tue, 02 Apr 2013
- 1304 reads
3 comments
Traces in lives, recorded as receipt,
traded as special favour:
“O, this one
was Nana's.”
We are tiered, a family cake,
hierarchy of pillars and power.
You attempt to serve a drip tray
of crowded, rowdy tables,
secrets of hare, moon and Orion's belt.
Yes, you have all the ingredients,
fresh bought and ethically sourced,
it doesn't taste the same,
hers, twice cooked
on the bones of yesterday.
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Comments
This is so poignant.Nana's
This is so poignant.Nana's love - that missing ingredient.And a touch of her charisma.Your poetry is luscious with a real sense of depth.
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This is a delicious poem,
Permalink Submitted by Richard L. Prov... on
This is a delicious poem, well done. Richard
Richard L. Provencher
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