There’ll be no solemn song
No “Hey, you hero of mine!”
Wind beneath their wings you were
Relegate of eagle shadow
Beautiful, smile…hide your pain
Fore-and-aft, you’ll flutter about
Oh, love! How you’ll luff
Teardrop-shaped, yet foil-less
All this windy day is wind
The ocean of you, they showboat atop
Shaved brussels
Not yet past their prime
Fresh peas, though the ideal
Unneeded, now, to build this meal
Please pray with me
My dying wish — the miso’s not gone bad
In the refrigerator way
Kitchen shears that snip-snipped happily at chives that waited just for me
All
Summer
Long
Somehow found their way to the floor
Could be an honest omen, or
A sign of what’s to come
Not my garden’s tomatoes, fool
They’re for another day!
Please forgive the white, white rice
Devoid of what I crave
Sesame to remind me and tofu hacked haphazardly
Tamari, I wish