Ashes

Your head

held

against

my heart.

My heart

once

your heart

now just ash

encased

in stone,

much like

my soul...

The Healing Soup

Walking to my car,
a chilly breeze throws my hair into my eyes,
a row of razors slowly slicing through my lower-back...
or so it seems....
I must make soup.
The need is beyond a craving,
beyond a desire...
it is simply as it should be today.

Walking into the house
the freezer calls me.

It is time to dig...
find the golden nuggets
that will make this beautiful stew.

Locating a pack of turkey wings
I knew they were perfect.
Meaty, full of flavor and plenty of oil from the skin
I throw them, completely frozen, into my largest stockpot,
along with a large onion and celery.
Boiling the hell out of it for hours upon hours,
adding dried garlic, dried peppers, rosemary...
scents begin to dance in our home.

The soup is singing.

Deboning and readding the meat to the broth...
Adding a small bag of frozen mixed vegetables...

Soup is the balm to my battered body and soul
The broth my salve.