Tonight I have fallen in love with cauliflower,
the way that it gives itself so completely
to the soup, the way it informs the curry
with nutty sweetness, with bitterness.
I love the way it turns to cream, how it
loses all sense of its former shape
and is still so wholly present.
I know it is foolish, perhaps, to toss around
a word so important as love, to spend it
on a vegetable. No, I tell myself,
it is worse not to fall in love with cauliflower,
worse to pretend that it isn’t a gift,
an invitation to praise. Such simple worship,
a bowl, a spoon, a willing tongue.
you’ve done it again! it is a gift to be able to see poetry in these homely things, and you certainly have the gift!
awww, thanks not hard to find the poetry in cauliflower! Yum! (um, my husband doesn¹t necessarily agree with that, but good feller that he is, he ate it without complaining 🙂 )
Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer http://www.wordwoman.com tel. 970-728-0399
From: “comment-reply@wordpress.com” Reply-To: Date: Wednesday, January 27, 2016 at 9:53 AM To: Rosemerry Trommer Subject: [A Hundred Falling Veils] Comment: “Cruciferous”
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Neruda would be proud, all the way down to his socks. Poetry cuisine. I especially like your slight renunciation of spending the word love on a vegetable. Love: both sweet and bitter.