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Norimaki Sushi
by
Betsy Miller


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Plump, white oval grains of
Steamed sticky rice cling together
In the dish, round wooden handai,
Full like a waiting moon.
Fold in rice vinegar, salty-sweet.
Fan the scented clouds of steam.
Sushi rice—Sumeshi

Take the rice to the nori
Seaweed, dark sheet paper-thin.
Deep red tuna, scallions join,
Enclosed as in a wave,
And sliced into circles, with
Wet-bright pebble centers.
Tuna roll—Tekka Maki.

Warm fragrance of
Peaceful green tea.
Pink, pickled ginger smells sweet,
A patient rose.
Soy sauce, brown as polished driftwood,
Singed by fiery
Green horseradish—Wasabi.

Chopsticks lift the sushi,
Skim the soy sauce.
Bring the round taste
Of rice, of saltspray, of the sea
Home to my mouth,
Edged with a sharp sinus sting.
Thank you—Arigato.

© by Betsy Miller. 
Used with the author’s permission.

 

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Betsy Miller writes all kinds of things—nonfiction, fiction in a variety of genres, and poetry in a number of forms. She likes to make each story or poem different, rather than sticking to a particular genre or form. This flies in the face of practical career considerations for writers, but it’s what makes her happy. Betsy lives in Silicon Valley with her husband and daughters, where she writes for high tech companies. Learn more about her here.

 


Post New Comment:
dotief@comcast.net:
Wonderful! Now, I am hungry!
Posted 02/20/2012 10:17 AM


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