Everyone went out, or sent out, for a meal tonight;
only I was left with the green beans looking as old
as if they were on Noah’s ark; Nici’s having dinner
in a restaurant, Scorpio & my crocodile son - curry
take-aways from the local Indian place - and told
me generously my meal was the cold broccoli &
cauliflower in the fridge - strangely enough, that
kind announcement failed to inspire - so I took
A chocolate bar from the fridge, a cool lemon drink
and settled myself on the settee watching the Long
Island medium on TV, although I saw that episode
before spirit does not allow me perfect recall & it’s
enjoyable to watch it again; the green beans left in
the pot, luke-warm and awful, that’s why you guys
refused to eat it, right? - the broccoli & cauliflower
left in the fridge - a beggar might pass by who’d
Need it more than I, right? – and there goes the
last bit of chocolate, now I’m seeking something up-
lifting to see me through tomorrow when I shall be
alone & in sorrow: checking a legal statistics text is
like visiting Siberia in winter finding a frozen taiga -
and I’m no Snow Queen now, just a lonely person
faced with old green runner beans, cold broccoli
and cauliflower - while everyone else is enjoying
The herbs and spices of life….
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem