Tell me how it is
And why it is
That we ever arrived at
The drive-by lunch
Through windows for ordering
Past windows for grabbing
In lines and by speakers
And change dropped and left
At the last window on the
Left
Always
Tell me how we ever evolved
To a primitive way of eating
In our laps and on the run
Chewing
At the red light
Swallowing whole halves of
Meals
Not taking sodium laden small
Bites of
Food
And is it still even food
At all
Come with me and sit
Then linger
With napkins and conversation
Raise your cup to your
Lips between words of
Living life
Sip
Cool water wiggling between
Cubes of ice and wedges of lemon
Sliced thin where yellow fades
To ombre shades
Of citrus, pale to bright
The rind a reminder
To live on the outer edges
Of civilized dining
Not on the thin line of
Fast and furious
A dollar and sofa change
Does not a real meal buy
Laugh between bites
And nod your head
Hear and listen, listen and respond
With words
Lick your tongue along
The rim of your salty
Mouth and retrieve the remnants
Of seasoned scallops seared
Cut slow in quarters
With a knife and fork
If you remember
How
And pause
Before you place the tip of a wedge
Of pineapple
Sweet and pungent
Juice runs
Between your teeth
And gums
And you squeeze and suck
Every bit of juice
From this golden yellow
Fresh fruit
Swallow, breathe and speak
Of the book
You are reading and the one
Lying in wait
And the one due any day from
Amazon
And the one you are writing
And the one about which you are
Still dreaming
And you pause
And breathe
And choose between greens
And another sip of soup
This is communing
This is a feast
This is your living breathing
Ode to slow
While you listen to her tell
You a story
Or two or more
As you linger and beg
The waitress to kick you out
If you have stayed past closing time
Which you have
But there is grace and you
Are welcome here
Where lunch and life
Are slow
And you are surrounded by those
Who know the art
Of
A two hour lunch
Oh that we would
Slow
Down
The bowed head
The table and chairs
The knife and fork
These
Symbols of a life
Slowed
An ode
To a two hour lunch
+++++++++++++++++
Joining the folks at Tweetspeak Poetry as we explore the “Ode
Ode to slow… I’m full with a good sense of pace. Thanks.
Love it! Sad to miss our 2 hour lunch today. I don’t think I can do Monday. I have Bible study that morning and then big grocery shopping and then off to the studio to get ready for the children’s open studio that afternoon. Yes, 2 weeks is a long time to wait but I look forward to it.
B