The scent fills my kitchen Powerfully of garlic and cumin Crockpot steaming as chili heats With the aroma of coriander Wafting to the neighbors As the lamb begins to broil
The kitchen is awash As the fragrance of yeast grows sweet bread baking in the oven Cinnamon and nutmeg Dance a pirouette delectably As apple pie cools
This kitchen is alive The delights that we shared here We made love once It was on a cold night after dinner Right there on that counter Currently occupied by flour
This kitchen has grown cold Only salt and pepper do remain like sentinels to lost times The microwave dings It's all I use since you left TV dinner turns to ash in my mouth
One thing that is the most painful after losing someone is being reminded of them in activities that you used to love. Sometimes it's a growing feeling that slowly coalesces into something that makes you weep. Other times it hits you like a freight train out of nowhere. Sometimes we don't realize how integral to our daily lives and relationships something as simple and common as cooking can be. If you are going through this hold on strong. You'll get back to cooking soon. I hope you enjoy the poem.