(276) On Asking for Words of Wisdom I Thought She Had for Me.

Here is a poem I wrote in 2009 when I was at a Women’s Writing Retreat in Maumee, Ohio. I found the notebook today, and it is a treasure trove of writings I have completely forgotten about. This particular workshop was called “Recipes for the Writing Life.”  This poem is about an offering of food when I was seeking something else.

She serves up a mass

amount of food to me

grilled steak kabobs

couscous

corn on the cob

salad

along with special iced tea

from Teavana with flower

petals and who knows

what else.

The food is delicious,

but it wasn’t why I came.

I asked for some insight and advice.

I got food.

I asked specific questions.

She talked to her dog.

After eating

she took the only

comfortable place to sit

in her small apartment,

leaving me cross-legged

on the floor,

still wishing I could get

what I came for;

but it was not to be.

Eventually I escaped

with a full stomach and

a rather surprising insight:

I can cook my own food.

I know what to do.

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