For Thanksgiving week: a poem by Lisa Mende

Untitled
(Lisa Mende)



pinprick of just a memory
stirred and simmered slow 
     with the promise of dill back of throat 
         through the nose inhaled secretly.
let no one see your eyes steamed wet 
      let no one see your wrist clutching fingers on a wooden spoon 
         spare and seamed, constant stirring
the cutting board redolent of onion, 
      despised soggy celery vying for the carrot's crunch
through the pinprick a melody whistled like a symphony, 
       sung with the rapturous pain 
           of a shared humanity of haunted Bedouins, 
your dream buddies
       primal memories of the constant throb and thrum
            tempered with a grief so rich that even anger cannot touch it
stir and swell and swell and consume
       one feathered kiss way in the past to sweeten the pot, 
            the bath, the bowl, the empty dish


This untitled poem by Lisa Mende was originally composed for Firemouth Salon, a monthly poetry group meeting in Watkinsville, Georgia.