Monday, October 24, 2011

Smitten. What is a poem smitten with?

Foremost, preposition? Perhaps, not. The obvious -- words. I'd fine tune it to the silence that words sculpt.


Appetites smitten a meal. Eyes, also. Simple: avocado, heirloom tomatoes, cilantro, a bit of fresh parsley and more of fresh cilantro, Bulgarian feta, pumpkin seeds, black pepper, olive oil.
Pita pocket. Plate on a plate, full of color & the ripe.

1 comment:

  1. laughing at the wrong turn in the hallway
    an upside down sign of caution
    pulled askew by the wind

    then the rain and all the crowds cross
    the newly flooded corner
    benches empty, bases full

    ReplyDelete