Cool, tangy
	Spaghetti salad
	On the tongue,
	Slippery strands
	Mixed with
	Onions, oil and
	Poppy seeds,
	Red tomatoes
	Playing hide and seek
	With crunchy
	Pepper chunks.
	Lima beans,
	Salty, warm,
	Filled with
	Buttery southern
	Memories,
	Meals remembered from
	A happy youth
	Still hoping 
	To taste summer sun
	Lying thick
	On fields
	Of hay and soy.
	Black-eyed peas
	Add a meaty tone,
	Brown, round,
	Rolling
	On a tongue
	That longs
	To drawl
	Of simple things
	That mean
	More in life
	Than computer code
	And dusty books
	Upon a shelf.
	What a poem
	This meal is!
	How icing sweet
	This layer cake
	Of words!
	Food for a soul
	Longing for
	Kitchen tables
	And friends
	Far away
	In time
	And space.
	Dishes may be
	Washed,
	But nothing
	Can those days,
	That life,
	Replace!

6/6/96

© Fred O'Bryant. All rights reserved.

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