.
She came for a visit,
In brightest winter sun,
Old trees in garden long bare,
Now laden with light as I opened
Door to greet her, a melted kiss
Of delight and to cook with me—
Her special dish, one of many,
Brought her own spices, for us
And carefully showed how,
For when she was gone,
I could make it just like her,
Simple recipe we made together,
New joys to share in kitchen,
The sound of more than one plate,
How we touched each other—
Tasting herbs and spoonfuls of sauce
And wine we spilled into glass and ***,
With candles we dined glowing by a window,
In no time at all, she left.  
                                         Later with care,
Cutting the proper ingredients for one,
I reconstruct each step all alone,
Dish never tastes the same—
House never warm enough.