Soup

Stop striving.
It’s simpler than that.
You can slice it
However you like —
Fine or rustic.
Serve it cold,
Serve it hot.
Either way,
You gotta let it
Sit or simmer.

Choose words
That depend on the weather —
Or not.
99 degrees feels like 112 —
Still,
Feel like mushrooms —
Wood ear, oyster, shiitake and more —
Wild rice and thyme,
Thickened with blade
Instead of cream,
And a splash of champagne
Vinegar at the the end.
Hot on the stove.

Sillier yet
In midwinter,
Wanting tomatoes and basil,
And looking for substitutes —
Dried or canned
To kill that craving.

Most of the time,
Get it right:
Apples in fall,
Cucumbers for summer
And roots all winter long.

But, like I said,
In season or out,
You gotta let it
Sit
Or simmer.

Stir,
Stir,
Taste and adjust.
(It might surprise you.)
Wait for it,
And when you think
It is ready,
Wait some more.
Time is sure to turn it
Into something
More than you’ve measured.

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About Emily

I may or may not have: A. Dirt B. Ink C. Paint D. Wool under my fingernails.

One response to “Soup”

  1. naramalone says :

    This applies to so many things, especially writing. It’s alwyas best when it’s left to simmer awhile. Yous simmered this one to perfection 🙂

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