Spider

web
prey
inter-
connected

black
lines
criss-
crossing
paper

the baker
slashes
the top
of unbaked
bread

no leaf
no pattern
in garden
which doesn't
belong

nor bread
nor words
which don't
beg
to be
eaten

Agapanthus

Such promise.  Such magesty.  But for a very short while.   Their dying is longer than their bloom.  I wonder what this has to do with poetry and food.   Perhaps, you are thinking of this, too.  Perhaps, you are preparing an early light lunch (last night's leftovers of grilled peaches & brie).  Perhaps, you just finished emailing a poetry submission.  Perhaps, your cat is dozing.  Perhaps.  Perhaps, not.  And, yet, the agapanthus are withering within view.

Deadline

The line (of poetry) is anything but dead when a deadline involved.  Something happens.  A letting go.  At least for now.  The same is true when friends arrive for a meal.  Another instance of a happy deadline.  A happy refrigerator and stove accommodating the deadline.  

Mockingbirds

Mock and mimic.
Mock is not unkindly.
Perhaps communnity?

Return to concept of mock.
Mock chicken. Mock duck.
Soy & spice.

Please,  never mock poetry.
However, please note
"mock" poetry can be a hybrid.
 
Much like mock duck, I suspect.

Slippers

haiku, the cat, has adopted my blue slippers  -- now renamed blue-slipper mousy.   It takes a cat to make the world kinetic.  Takes a pen to make a gesture hum,  kinetically.  I know there are poems to and of footwear.  None come to mind.  I am not disappointed.

Daily

As in tea.
As in candle.
As in writing one-line of poetry a day.
As in taking out the cheese early morning, for supper.
As in walking which ties life in a splendid & colorful bow.

Goats

There's an institution of goats taking care of the enviornment in SF.  As in clearing away potential fire hazard.  The goats appear, they eat, they deplete vegetation and they go bye-bye.  Goats with coats of multitudious color and pattern.  I thnk of that delicious cheese.  Cheese being the food closely aligned with poetry.