Dinner for One

the water is boiling     pasta swims

beneath sparingly salted eruptions,

as I uncork the wine     tonight Merlot

splashes into a curved top Bordeaux  

 

the table is set     one plate, one fork,

one wax steeple with a tongue of fire,

and I wait     wait for the sauce to simmer,

a dinner for one nearly done     again

 

you linger in the scent of marinara      still

haunting a kitchen we built as lovers,

and this table keeps memories beyond food,

my hands remember as I lightly stroke the grain

Reviews

[zainul]

You have a place of a beloved person in your heart
You feel very emotional and lost when he is apart

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

Love and loss...isn't that the crux of this existence? :) Thank you, my friend!

[zainul]

Yes,Love and loss-it is the crux of this existence.
Thanks for dealing with life with courage and intelligence.

[Corset]

Cooking Pasta will never be the same again, I love, and have felt this very reflection just recently, I am ever amazed by the universal mind. Beautifully executed my friend.

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

Thank you so much, my friend. I'm glad you could relate to this...well, glad and sad :)

[Corset]

yeah...at least we CAN boil water huh? There is that :)

[TL Boehm]

You write lonely so well. I would have penned something like j- here I stand suckin soup out the can cuz you left me all alone....(insert purile expletives here and here especially if they rhyme.) Yup.

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

Haha Yeah, but yours would have made a much better song :)

[Trace]

I could go on and on about how brilliant this is,
but I think I will just stop at Brilliant.

Trace

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

You are much too kind, my friend!

[Shygirl]

That was really good. I love how the first stanzas just described someone making pasta, and how the last stanza explained why. This poem is making me hungry lol.

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

By all means...go eat some pasta :) Thank you so much for the review!

[Shygirl]

Your welcome.

[Ufi Auttorri ~ Amy C. T..]

I wonder what you might write about, later, if many of your ardent fans here at the WC should suddenly show up on your doorstep some evening; while that water is boiling and the pasta is swimming in those salted eruptions? Of course it's a fantasy but an interesting one I think. What would your face look like upon opening the door? Wide-eyed, innocent, unsuspecting or crazed with fear that the community collective had come to assess the adherence to some unwritten standards of hospitality? How would you remember the evening that wore on - possibly late into a dew-soaked moonlit morning? How would our dear Sarah capture that scene? How might she immortalize the moment and those who yearn to toast greatness and in so doing become a part of history?

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

haha Oh, I think I could probably come up with several pieces of poetry if something like that occurred. You always make me laugh, my friend!

[Ripped Denim 💜]

If I might ask, what happened?

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

That's for you to draw your own conclusion :) That's the beauty of poetry, my friend.

[I Am Svetlana]

Dinner alone can't always be seen as a bad thing as often times, it could be a good thing. We get time to ourselves, to reflect and remember certain things. For that evening, the food, aroma and silverware can be our friends, our personal company. Though they wouldn't understand or mean as much to you as your lover probably would, but we wouldn't be completely alone.

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

I do agree with you...and this was not necessarily meant to be sad or happy, just a reflection. I'm glad you made your own assumptions and felt your own emotions with this one :)

[B-poet]

Loved the imagery. It showcased a unique setting where a special dinner for one remained to be nostalgic after the loss of a cherised lover. Great work Girl Friday. Another riveting read. :)

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

Thank you, my friend!

[aria]

This is, as others have said, masterful at showing us what it is is to be left and alone. You can feel the speaker's longing. And yet it is not overly sentimental. There are no tears streaming or wails echoing.

I like that. It is understated in a good way.

One area where I see a chance for improvement though is:

"one wax steeple with a tongue of fire,"

I love this line. And yet, I wonder if a word or two could be added or changed to further the theme of loss and loneliness. Maybe something about the tongue lapping into emptiness??? It's a great image as is, but it just seems like a missed opportunity in a way.

Regardless, this is very nicely written.

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

Interesting idea...I shall think on it. Thank you, my friend.