The entire poem and intro is stolen from my friend Sarah at the teacup chronicles.
"April is NAtional POetry WRIting MOnth, for those of you who aren't yet in the know.
Now you are in the know. And now, you can enjoy this poem that tastes like a late afternoon...
With the hens outside
The man on the record player sings
"We are not afraid to die."
And with the spinach pulled from outside
being washed between my hands
and the water sizzling in the iron skillet
cleaning it the way you taught me how
and the chicken in the fridge
and a tomato to cut
and corn to clean
and apples to bake
and brown sugar and butter and chocolate
with ceiling fans worshiping my skin
with you and your bicycle
on your way home
with the mint freshly picked from the garden
still scenting my fingers
and being so incredibly unafraid
to look you in your eyes
with the gentle beauty of not knowing
I am inclined to believe him.
:) he's my hero
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