Enga mellom fjella

Cleaning cilantro

Images:

Jack cheese and extra-sharp cheddar in two plastic resealable bags, 1 inch of milk, light green bowling balls of kohlrabi, mushrooms in a brown bag, a can of tuna fish, relish left from the previous tenant (that I'll never use), small eggs in a carton, mayo almost gone, plum brandy butter, two bottles of birch beer (waiting for that special occasion) and cilantro in a bag... half frozen...

Cleaning cilantro

The cilantro has wilted.

Too cold in the icebox,
it's emerald leaves darkened with dots.

I sit with it.
Hold it.
Pull leaves off limp stems.

Too fresh to be wasted.

I'll sauteé some
then save some,
consign the rest to the freezer.

The stems I'll throw out.

My hands smell like balogna,
remind me of ceviche,
fresh corvina soured in lime
with sprigs of cilantro
much like these.

Chartreuse stems pile up
like spring clippings of mown grass,
fragrant and useless.

Green leaflets like clover,
plucked one at a time:

Will he love me?
Will he love me not?

Love me cilantro...

...for he may not.

© Kåre Enga [166.180] 2009-08-14

The random images are from my refrigerator. I wrote the sketch last night as I sat cleaning the cilantro. I figured most was salvageable. Thoughts come to mind doing mindless tasks mindfully. Anyone can do this. Choose something very mundane but perhaps unusual in some way (to you or to others) and compose a poem or story while actually doing it; include as many senses as possible; stray thoughts can be woven in too.

Tactile stuff is great; but, you may have to memorize until the hands are free to write! Or be satisfied with green stained pages...

Blogville:

Now just because Carolina Blue has shrunk, doesn't mean Ken won't be around or that you can't go visit his other-site blog:

http://carolinablue50.wordpress.com/

ME?

I went to market. Picked up cherries, porccini, huckleberries, small orange tomatoes. Said hello to Lavender Lori who fortunately got all her lavender picked before that heavy rain. Saw Susan-the-face-painter.

At Butterfly Herbs saw a funny card of a white dog dancing with a lady in green-and-orange ("Tänzchen" by Rudi Hurzlmeier). It reminded me of Caoimhe and me when we twirl at Celtic connection. I showed it to her customers and they laughed. She thought it was hilarious too. Now I hafta write the poem.

Last night at The Break Espresso I wrote "lyrics".My Muse is driving me mad.

Montana: 57° at 6 p.m. in Missoula and damp. Dave Thomas said this August 'singularity' has lasted longer than normal.

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