Lunch as a Meditation

Yes, I’m hungry but

let’s move slowly here - first, what colour am I today?

all the warm neutrals of spring defrosting, an enduring herbaceous infusion

strong barked sprigs and waxy peels and pits in the middle

yes, I am green and yellow and brown today

so what is in the fridge?

a small pan made for eggs, warming itself, oiling itself

withdraw a scrap of citrus peel from the soon-to-be-compost bowl

3 different jars of olives, sizzling, two now finished

(I get scared sometimes when things are gone but not today)

and then the thyme because there is time and I am time and garlic in all things

I bought bread yesterday let me cut it right on the wood counter

3 pieces; mind, body, and spirit and two get cold

before they are buttered but I like to see the pale yellow of it

still cold and thick and there is also a pear

sliced 20 times for only half, opulent and soft and dissolving

cheese, mild and dry and I break off a hunk and bite out of that directly

put it on my favourite plates

salt and pepper the warm Mediterranean spell

dip the buttered crust into warm salty oil

squish the pear on the butter that is more solid than it is

I forgot to mention the meat, small circles

one of them laying on top and toughening the bite

I eat the garlic in whole, nearly raw pieces

I put the herb in my mouth and suck off all the flavour

I dip the cheese directly into the oil and let the crust crumbs lodge themselves in

and I take my time

and I put everything else away

and there is a linen napkin from last night beside me and I use it again

and the flowers on the table smell like they are depressing in the fake spring

and I am putting my fingers in my mouth one at a time with my eyes closed.