It might be the brilliant yellow of turmeric
boiled into salted potatoes,
washed down with the brown
of peppermint tea.
Or the intoxicating fragrance, when
we are hungry enough, of simple
spices. Cinnamon and cloves,
in another dish of oatmeal.
Outside the house, across the street,
the neighbors' children scream happily
into the warm night, where
the first fireflies begin to appear.
©Elisa Maria Argiro