I bought a dresser from an estate sale,
I painted it in “Mouse’s Back.” I baked
a Christmas cake, presoaking the fruit in
cognac purloined from the liquor cabinet. I
cleaned out my bathroom drawers, all
those cosmetic samples with their
illusory promises. I wrote a honey-do list
for my husband. He ignored it.
I gathered in the fruits of my garden
a single enormous pumpkin bought
for Halloween and still uncut. I cut it open
discovered a thick substratum of flesh, beading
moisture betwixt seed and skin
I felt parsimonious. I made
- 5 gallons of pumpkin soup.
- A pumpkin pie.
- 12 pumpkin muffins.
- 10 cups of pumpkin purée to be frozen for future use,
- A platter of roast pumpkin with chili and coriander.
And then I made a cup of coffee.
I sat down. I wrote.
Copyright Sam Grieve 11/28/2016