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When red tomatoes pop,
pluck them, peel them
squeeze them into nectar
and boil till bubbles boogie.
Then dust with yesterday’s onions
tears will salt the skeletons
stewing in bouquets of basil.
Simmer the sauce,
stir till senses salivate
swirl into mounds of make-believe
and season with savory secrets.
Then crumble May’s red roses
sprinkle into graves of garlic and
cover with sprigs of parsley.
When flavors embrace,
scoop out some sauce,
break some bread,
dip up disappointments,
dip up dreams,
dip up dances.
Dive into the Chianti.
Cha-cha to life’s concerto.
This poem first appeared in Flutter Poetry Journal (January 2007).
Used here with the author’s permission.
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Maureen Hand began writing poetry when she retired from teaching high school English and writing in Amsterdam, New York. She has taught memoir workshops, as well as poetry workshops, and her work has appeared in newspapers, magazines, and literary journals. The author of Write the Snapshots of Life, a book on memoir writing, and co-author of Lemon Meringue Pie at Midnight, a book of poems and photos, Maureen agrees with W. H. Auden that poems are just stories with the boring parts left out.
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rhonasheridan:
M,,mmmmm!
Posted 07/16/2018 12:16 PM
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Lori Levy:
Sensual and full of life!
Posted 07/15/2018 01:41 PM
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Sharon Waller Knutson:
Beautiful language. Love the alliteration. Appeals to all senses. Wonderful poem.
Posted 07/15/2018 11:59 AM
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cork:
"Tears will salt the skeletons" is my favorite line.
Posted 07/15/2018 11:29 AM
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KevinArnold:
What fun!
Posted 07/15/2018 09:11 AM
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Larry Schug:
Ah, tomatoes! Duly honored in this poem.
Posted 07/15/2018 08:56 AM
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Michael:
Delightful images, this poem is full of winsome humor and love of life; the very things we poets SHOULD offer to the world.
Posted 07/15/2018 08:50 AM
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