"She Was from Moscow"

Day 6 of 30:  Global Poetry Writing Month and National Poetry Writing Month

 

 

 

 Today's NaPoWriMo challenge is to write a poem about food.

My inspiration comes from a delightful sister, a world wanderer, who I met in India. We were both traveling by ourselves and became fast friends during the time we spent at Villa River Cat in Goa. With a shared passion for the sea and good food, we hung out at places along the Arabian Sea eating grilled garlic mussels at the spectacular French restaurant The Plage and piña coladas at Marbela Beach. We shared so much: laughter, stories, and dreams of "organizing our lives", but the best part of our friendship was the long silences between us as we stared out at the sea.

How lucky was I to snap this iPhone photo just as she placed the plate on the table?

 

 

 

“She Was from Moscow”

 

So sweet

The birthday treats

She served

Wearing orange Shanghai

Silk, her hair up in an Oriental bun.

 

She was

The scent of roses.

 

The red ones, which she didn’t like,

Floated in a bowl on the bamboo table.

She gathered together long-stemmed

Ivory ones, the butter-colored ones,

a bit brown on the edges, but fragrant,

And put them in glass vases

All around the terrace.

 

Come, taste my birthday sweets!

she said, smiling like a tango dance as she took them

out of the box, arranged them on the plate.

We cut them in tiny squares, a mosaic,

and shared them at brunch.

 

It wasn’t because I was American

And she was Russian

And we were in India drinking tea on

The anniversary of the day she was born.

 

It was because I had never known the salty taste

Of red caviar exploding on the tongue

And she had never known a writer

And we both loved the sea

More than we loved a man or the land.

 

She said,

“Isn’t it funny how we humans need our bodies to get around?”

Each breath she took

lifted the scar on her chest where doctors once

took out her heart to fix it.

 

Do you know what happiness is?

she asked, turning to look at me.

Happiness is having enough food to eat, and someone to feed.

 

 

© Kat Shamash, April 6, 2016

 

 

Comments

[D]

I love this. It's so beautiful. It's left me breathless.

[Kat Shamash]

D:
Writing is such a solitary endeavor.
Getting response to it is such a treat.
It's a wonderful, indescribable feeling to know that my writing inspires others.

Thank-you!

[Andrea Dennison]

"Each breath she took

lifted the scar on her chest where doctors once

took out her heart to fix it."

This bit is just fantastic. It's interesting to have the heart referred to as the literal object instead of the concept. :D

[Kat Shamash]

Thank-you, Andrea! Often, it's not until the literal, beating heart-as-object starts to fail that we realize its importance.

[Divyam]

This is a beautiful poem. Thank you so much! You just made my day with your words.

[Oloriel]

Beautiful poem, and I just loved the ending, it carries such a pleasantly warm and important message.

[Gloria]

Thank you for such beautiful writing, especially verse 7.

[Linda Daunter]

Wow! You are indeed a poet. Not a word out of place and you took me straight into that scene with you.

[Pam Bowen]

I like how you hold back the setting/ situation until halfway through the poem. The sharp detail comes first, to paint a picture before we know anything. I also love the last line.

[Thomas Kearney]

That made made happy! (That, plus having enough food and someone to feed, of course.) Beautifully done.