I stir the pan, watching plum
tomatoes melt into a pottage
that bubbles & pops, sending
its hot splash onto the stove top.
I am staring, I know, without
seeing what’s happening
before me. I smell the burn of
splotch simmering to carbon.
Elements smoke. I accidentally
touch the heat with my fingertips
as I take a swipe with my sponge,
but I don’t feel a thing.
I keep stirring, locked in position, like
a woman spellbound—an ineffable
moment, if anyone were to watch me
going through the motions
of putting by.
M.J. Iuppa’s fourth poetry collection is This Thirst (Kelsay Books, 2017). For the past 32 years, she has lived on a small farm near the shores of Lake Ontario. Check out her blog: mjiuppa.blogspot.com for her musings on writing, sustainability & life’s stew.
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