Sunday, September 20, 2009

Henry Hinkman

soup photo by Julie Eger

When I was sixteen I dreamed
of spending the rest of my life
with a blonde blue-eyed girl
whose lips were red,
whose father was rich
whose reputation would lead me
to lobster and melted butter
we would wipe with napkins
spun from white linen.

Today, I am cutting wood on the back acres
of a plot of land I earned myself,
while the smell of good soup
lingers along this beaten path
that leads to a patchwork shack
filled with a good broad woman,
fat and lovely and quick to smile
as she hands me my spoon and fills my bowl.

Julie Eger 2009

No comments:

Post a Comment

Thanks for stopping by and leaving a comment! Jukota