Wednesday, October 19, 2016

In loving memory of my salad

I'm aware that salad is not finger food.
But oh, how crisply carrots crunch upon the tongue!
How delicious lettuce greenly lies!
And cucumbers --
                  to speak of cucumbers is to speak of paradise

Home seems still so far away;
Perhaps if I pick off a leaf here,
                                       a sliver there,
I can cool my parched throat
                  without doing my poor salad too much harm

All the world is bright about me,
And my heart is light as crisp cool greens
                   I'm halfway through my salad
                                       I think I ate more than it seemed

As finally I mount my doorstep,
                 Turn my key and slip inside,
                                       I set the box down on the table
                                       Ready to taste the treasure inside

I open the lid -- but what is this?
No leaf of lettuce to be found!
                  O woe! Ah me! O misery!
                  A tear wells up within my eye

I meant to take a little taste,
                  To ease my walk,
                  And yet it seems -- o dreary thought--
                                       I ate up every bite!

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