Today I reserve

Today I reserve to praise
tapioca, the perfect composure
of uncooked pearls,

the unruly softness
of finished pudding;
such sweet
solace, enfolding.

Tomorrow is set aside
for mixed beans, the certainty
of their many forms

that yield willingly in
simmering broth,
finished with salt;
their reliable sustenance.

The day after I will
bow to coffee, its dark
warmth and encouragement;

the day after that,
to the delicate head
and golden body of beer,
its easy equanimity;

and each day thereafter,
praise at the altar of some
constant, inanimate thing

that held me
in fearless embrace

when the humans fled
all possible carriers
of their certain mortality,

and left me entirely
to what remained, the
small and faithful offerings

that nurtured,
that steadied,
that endured.

 

 

 

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5 comments

  1. slukwago · · Reply

    How did I miss this? It makes me smile. As I appreciate my cup of hot herbal peach tea.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. You’ve stirred up a craving for tapioca pudding – it’s been years since I’ve indulged! (Beans are a regular.)
    A tasty read, Cate!

    Like

    1. Thanks, Jazz. Old-fashioned tapioca is aesthetically pleasing, as well as satisfying. Cook on!

      Liked by 1 person

  3. NatashaMarie · · Reply

    Food and drink are not appreciated nearly often enough in poetry. Thank you for the smile this morning as I hold my warm cup of coffee a little longer in my cold and tired hands.

    Like

    1. You are welcome. In this time of radical disconnection, it feels deeply good to me to add even a small bit of pleasure to another’s day. So, thank you for writing! And may your hands find warmth and rest.

      Liked by 1 person

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