Next on my World Poetry Day-a-thon, the topic is soup.
Homemade
Broth is love.
From the bones of a chicken
Comes a new beginning,
A seasoned pot of potential.
What will we add to make it new?
Garlic, potatoes, cheese, thyme,
Milk, pepper, love.
Combine and stir.
Heat until good.
It needs tasting,
It needs more.
Baby it,
Then leave it alone.
Make it hot, make it cool,
Let it breathe.
It will be soup
When it's ready to be soup.
Waiting.
Worth it, but hard.
I'm giving birth to soup.
It starts with broth.
If you were here with me, you'd see me snapping, beatnik style.
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