The Molcajete Poem by Juan Olivarez
The Molcajete
In the molcajete of volcanic stone,
You pound away as if grinding bones.
Cumin, black pepper, and a garlic clove,
Something special for your love.
Thick basalt, on three little legs,
Crushing peppers for the morning eggs.
The little giant with a single hand,
The mexican housewife's treasured friend.
9/9/12
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
The Molcajete--mortar and pestle made out of lava rock
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4/24/2024 2:09:06 AM # 1.0.0.1119
