PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

get out my big old speckled enamel pot and lid
my sharp knife, and wooden spoon
time to make soup
made for myself, by myself
on a rainy day just like this
I slice into the green onions, celery, carrots and asparagus
all coarsely chopped up
I am out of some choi sum

make a note to get some sum at the Chinese market
next time I’m near there
say hello to the old smiling Chinese owner of Hop Sing’s
he’s a nice man with warmness in his eyes
must have to do with being able to please his customers

mix in the shaved ginger and garlic into the pot
put in a tall pitcher of cold spring water
now stir water into the mixture
all together like friends
don’t forget me and my old wooden spoon
we’re old friends too
feel for the little plastic bag of pine nuts on the table
throw in two handfuls for good measure

I throw in some quartered leftover bay scallops merely for taste

I remember times when we would grill them on your barbeque
wrapped with turkey bacon and water chestnuts held place with toothpicks
I hope they don’t get too rubbery

a few pinches of salt to taste
put the pot on the stove
a slow low heat will do

stir in my secret wish
a wish individual as the curved moonlight

time to start the spinach couscous

I’ll mix it into the soup when vegetables are ready
it adds some color and thickens the texture

grind the pepper

the noise is all I hear alone
reminds me of the grind
of fatigued thoughts
and mindless routines

snap back to into reality

I smile serenely, when I smell the smells
I hear the pot percolate

put out my bowl and spoon on the table
get a bottle of good white wine
uncork and pour a glass

ahh, the sips of life

slowly lift the lid
steam my face with my handy work

fill my bowl
get a hunk of crispy French bread
drizzled in virgin olive oil

light a slim white candle

and savor the flavor brought to my lips
Mmm mmm good
making a soup for me by me

listening to the hard cold spring rains
I hear a little thunder roll off in the distant night

I’ve left nothing out
nothing but the conversations
while eating homemade soup alone