Ode To A Two Hour Lunch

wpid-20140207_144631.jpgOde To A Two Hour Lunch

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

Tell me how we ever evolved
To a primitive way of eating
In our laps and on the run
At the red light
Swallowing whole halves of
Not taking sodium laden small
Bites of
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
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
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
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

A two hour lunch
Oh that we would

The bowed head
The table and chairs
The knife and fork
Symbols of a life

An ode
To a two hour lunch


Joining the folks at Tweetspeak Poetry as we explore the “Ode

Ode To Home On The Occasion Of The Possibility of Spring’s Arrival


Ode To Home On The Occasion Of The Possiblity of Spring’s Arrival

You have been a strong and faithful sanctuary
A well wrought port in a storm of endless
Winter polar vortices
Iron maiden made of brick and mortar
Oh yet so much more
Boldly you braced me from the wicked winter winds
Is that now in our past
Is Spring preparing us for windows open
Windex polished and shined for her new day
Reflecting your joy and mine
Like a pair of Easter white patent leather
Mary Jane’s, shiny and new
Party ready to spin and twirl and dance with
Delight in Spring’s New Light
Of Day and Day Light Savings Time

Could it be that in this year of a winter that appears
To you as bully, thief and trouble maker, pot-stirrer and
Rebel rouser
We will have a set change, a character change and a scene change soon
Oh home you and I might live to see another Spring
What color shall be plant the window boxes, bright and gay
I say Pink, you say Red
Geraniums, on that we can agree

How will be celebrate the possibility of Spring’s arrival

You, my home desire the fatted calf killed
And the silver polished
And a fresh coat of paint somewhere on your trim
You are a surviver and a hanger-oner
You took your knocks and rode out the cold
Stood head up, chin up, shoulders back

Fearless are you
Let the seasons change
And let us dress you in all your finery
And regalia
Your day has come to feel the breath of Spring
Blow across your red brick cheek
Spring is here, almost
Hold on tight, hold your breath, hold on to hope
We have nothing to fear but fear itself
Well that and that this could be the first year we skip
Spring altogether and go straight to Summer

But we, dear home
Are optimists
And we shall count on Spring
The Weber Grill and charcoal
Have waited long enough

This poem is written in response to my friends at Tweetspeak Poetry and their prompt Ode To Home”