Wednesday Poetry: Reading to the Cooks
We read poems to you in the kitchen,
amid bright chunks of peach and plum.
While you deftly handle honed knives, thick onion slices,
I struggle with a descriptor.
I mix too many adjectives with my nouns,
while you blend in just the right
measure of tomatoes and cayenne.
You hear me try out my second, half-baked rewrite,
as I watch you knead the dough
that will become bread.
You feed us so well,
because it matters,
because nourished bodies
birth sounder poems.
You work so calmly and listen,
listen so thoroughly,
as if preparing a meal for eighty
were a simple task, requiring only
half your attention.
You listen, and cook, and listen.
You smile and say “mmmm”
at the lines you like,
as if you had just tasted
–Laura Hersey, writer, artist, and advocate for people with a disability and social justice issues.