Switch To Soup Poem by Cee Bea

there is no lost love
it seemed whisked away
like the sandwich at the pub
I so delightfully hungered for

it was different, with different toppings
I…I did not even like the first time
then, it grew on me
it became a favorite of rich marbled
bread, sharp blue cheese, ripe tomatoes
and more, perfectly baked
with a dill on the side

now it is there no more
no apology, no reason as to why

sure I could make my my own.
or search out another place that might
by chance make them, and I suppose I will
eye, every menu looking for, and in hopes
of finding another.

But it would not taste the same,
and rather than look, want
or produce some ill fated and conceived notion of need

I will switch to soup.