5:00 PM
Open fridge.
Check date on yogurt.
Really should use it soon.
5:05 PM
Sift through recipes
until one rises
to the top: golden
carrot soup—with rye
toast croutons—
and tarragon-scented
yogurt swirl—
YUM.
5:15 PM
Open fridge again.
Using gloves,
dispose of moldy bag
of carrots.
5:20 PM
substitues—
beets (really?)
parsnips—
who has those
on hand?
celery—
no need to peel
but…
YEECH.
5:30 PM
Pour a glass of wine.
Imagine
a world where
Star Trek is real
and replicators
produce carrots
on demand.
Eat celery
while considering
if potatoes
are close enough.
5:35 PM
Open freezer.
Stare at contents.
Close freezer.
5:40 PM
Add carrots
to your grocery list.
Chew on pencil.
Think.
5:45 PM
Open Grubhub.
Scroll.
No one delivers
carrot soup.
You knew that.
Who are you
to crave
such a thing—
Bugs Bunny?
6:00 PM
Stare at
grocery list.
Inspect bite-marks
on pencil.
Open your mind.
When ready,
underneath “carrots”
carefully write
everything else
you need
you love
you will fight for
until time
gets frothy
and
evaporates.
YESSSSS.
Repeat,
for as long
as it takes
to feel full.
Serve it forth.
----Sara Lewis Holmes (all rights reserved)
My poetry sisters' recipe poems can be found here:
Andi
Poetry Friday is hosted today by Ruth at There Is No Such Thing as a God-forsaken Town.
