Yesterday’s storm caught us
unprepared, separated,
stranded but safe.
Suddenly home alone
snowed in this Unexpected
Bowl of hours, I filled it
with shoveling snow
and making soup of the day
from what I had:
Chicken and coconut,
Sketchbook and sweater,
Worldbeat Radio,
Contentment and cookies.
Later, while the storm raged,
I filled a cup and sipped
the delicious day of quiet
falling everywhere, expansive,
soft and white.
Tag Archives: soup poem
Unexpected Recipe
Spoon Rest
O spoon,
washed and dried
worn out
after the dinner shift.
Your work, as
necessary as a key–
to unlock our lips,
open our voices
over tonight’s
fine bowls of soup.
Puff Of Smoke Poems 