Winter Stew Poem by Fred Rik Kesner
Winter Stew
'winter stew'
I lift
the pot
from the stove,
steam
streaming out
into the room.
Outside,
someone walks past
with their collar raised,
glancing in
as if this small heat
might matter.
I eat
a little,
standing there,
letting the warmth
settle
after a long day.
Session out.
Save this.
A moment
held between
my hands
and the street.
.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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8/15/2026 4:27:15 AM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
