You stand with open arms, embracing the fork
That plunges you into my hungry maw.
Raw, steamed or wokked,
You play well with others, or alone.
I know you can’t fight cancer any more
Than a cup of blueberries can.
Yet you show up like loyal soldier
In the army of healthful recipes.
You supply my bones and skin and muscles
With powerful minerals and carotenes
Your sulfur compounds ring my liver alive
And help clear the garbage.
O simple broccoli, would you not prefer
To be as unloved as kohlrabi?
Instead wreathing sides of roast beef
And stir-fries forever more?
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just phyllis for now
The Chocolate Covered Kitchen
Margaret Feike
Mary Stanik
Natsuki Kimura
Ann Nichols
Salon.com
Comments
this poem? yes yes please!
Perhaps... a flower.