making stock
the air was as cold
as it was grey today
and the forecast of rain
sent me stacking the
stock pot on the stove
pulling poultry bones
from the freezer
as well as a couple of
bags of celery butts
and carrot ends
garlic fresh parsley
and a sliced lemon
its been simmering
through sermon prep
and basketball games
turning tap water
into the promise
of meals yet to come
the oldest meaning
of the word is the
trunk of a living tree
from which life spings
the rich reduction
is a soup nursery
new life will come from
the scraps and bones
of other meals
a good word as lent
boils down to its
magnificent defeat
scraps and bones
are the stuff of life
and death it seems
the rain both waters
and wearies us
come it’s time to eat
Peace,
Milton
Smells good, I want some