The prompt for this poem by Jessie Franco was: You get to meet someone that you know, but this person is dead. Who is the person? What do you do? (Well this poem was written after eating noodles while thinking about this prompt.)
Read the other pieces in the series “From the Garlic Field.”
*
About an Empty Bowl
by Jessie Franco
So little that remained
after I ate its heart of fulfillment…
a shell means nothing if it only
holds, with cupped palms, like the human
hand
It is what is held
that the palm was made for;
our faces should peel off on Sundays
like red flower
petals,
To find what we were looking for
And so god will see us
Raw and damp,
Like when we first came out of
the womb.
This porcelain will never feel warmth again
And when washed in hot soap water,
It will be a poor imitation
Of the loving passion,
the thick noodles,
That burned a brand upon its center.
Dinner is a time of taking.
***
(Featued image from Pexels)