Career Counseling in the Kitchen

Field Roast Sausage

Due to the Loss of Field Roast Artisan Grain Sausage

Under the pastry board
that pulls out like an awning,
I found her. Half in, half out
of a cabinet door,
its shelter a hard cloak
that could hide the tears.

She was weeping
because we forgot to leave her
more than one ring
of spicy sausage.

Come here,

I told her, and gathered her
thirteen-year-old frame
into my arms, pulled her
towards my warm body.

I love that you are crying about sausage,

I said. And she rolled her eyes
like I was just some crazy mama
trying to comfort with nonsense.

No, really,

I whispered. Because, I told her,
not everyone would cry about sausage.
She might be a famous chef someday
or a travel and food writer.

Such a person might cry
under an awning in New York
or Paris, about a sausage,
or a lost link to some recipe
from the past.


Anonymous Monica Sharman said...

and in that case
the food we call
"comfort" will make
something sure
to satisfy
a hunger

9:12 PM  
Blogger SimplyDarlene said...

I like that "lost link" bit... You are a funny AND crazy mama.

Happy Mother's Day!


5:49 PM  
Blogger alinsonpaul said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

8:41 AM  

Post a Comment

<< Home