I’ve been trying to come up with a good recipe for the blog. I haven’t been cooking anything new lately. Just the tried and true regular meals. Nothing I would call blogworthy. I am anxiously awaiting the return of Summer’s bounty. Then, I read a poem. Yes, a poem. And all this time you all thought I was this woman all consumed by food and wine. Well, you aren’t wrong. I am consumed by all that is food and wine, however, it can take many forms.
Food impacts everything we do and have in life. It sustains us. It inspires us. It is barter. It is entertainment. It is comfort. It is exploration. It is understanding. It is team building. It is also the subject of novels, movies, music, song, cookbooks, and poetry. Like I’ve said before, food is love.
A friend and fellow blogger brought this poem to my attention. It could have been written by Mr. Wii, if he wrote poetry. I laughed as I wrote that. You see, Mr. Wii is an engineer. A reader and writer of all things tech. I think the only poetry he has ever read, was written by Dr. Seuss. Seriously. Having four grand children, he has read a lot of The Doctor. I read the poem to him and he agreed that it did sound like something he could have written. His exact comment was “Hey……..that sounds like us!”.
Here is the poem:
by Donald Hall, Poet Laureate of the United States 2006, from the book of poetry titled White Apples and the Taste of Stone (2006)
In June’s high light she stood at the sink
With a glass of wine
And listened for the bobolink
And crushed garlic in late sunshine.
I watched her cooking, from my chair.
She pressed her lips
Together, reached for kitchenware,
And tasted sauce from fingertips.
“It’s ready now. Come on,” she said.
“You light the candle.”
We ate, and talked, and went to bed,
And slept. It was a miracle.