Food Poem

[I finally got around to checking out the Read Write Poem site and found a lot of familiar blogging poets there. They prompted me to write a food poem - and with a poet who cooks, that opens up a lot of territory!]



After the Stomach Flu


For three days
I drank only a
small sip of water
followed by a wait,
and then a single, dry
saltine cracker.

But at last
I sat,
showered and dressed,
in the tiny, tidy shack
that was open for breakfast
and run by two nice old women.
I ordered a bowl
of oatmeal.

I added a bit of sugar,
and a little milk,
and I took a careful spoonful
into my mouth.
It was warm and soft,
and I swallowed
just like
on the cold mornings
of my childhood winters,
when Mom made sure
we always had a warm breakfast
before heading off to school.

I still remember that day
when oatmeal
was the best thing
I had ever eaten.