The Innisfree Poetry Journal

www.innisfreepoetry.org

by Kristin Berkey-Abbott

Crocks

If I just had these crocks,
I feel certain I would make French
onion soup the correct
way. I would buy bones
from the butcher and boil
them into beef stock.
I would shred the proper blend
of cheeses. The bread, stale
but not moldy, would absorb
all the flavors and be sliceable
with a soup spoon.

I would need a soup tureen,
of course, but where in my overstaffed
cabinets would I store
it? I would need this rustic
sideboard with glass casing
so that I could admire my possessions.
It costs several mortgage payments,
but I have twenty or more years
to live, an amortization bargain.

But where will I put this sideboard?
Am I to buy a new house?
I put the crocks back
on the shelf and return to my chipped
bowls which I will never leave
to anyone as an inheritance.



Copyright 2006-2012 by Cook Communication