Pottage

The gentle breezes
Sent seductive waves throughout
Her purple curtain.

She simmered a mess of curried lentils
Telling of the years now past she wandered,
Years of pain and victory,
Of deaths and births of sorts,
On desert routes and teeming ports
Across the everlasting ocean.

The scent was bright and heavy,
Weighing down the air
Beneath a pungent steam
Within her cozy kitchen,

Scent of cumin and cardamon,
Her sweaty skin
The watered earth.

- 4/14/26

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