Poem: "An Ode to Stock"

Chicken noodle soup reposes in a bowl.

An Ode to Stock

By Rachel Watson

You’re the essence, the marrow
The life, the core.
You lend your healing power
When my throat’s sore.

You’re yellow, hot and briny
So savory good.
I slurp you straight from my spoon
Like sick folk should.

I find you in the market
Premade for me.
Which means someone spent those hours
And now I’m free.

I add wilting vegetables
With garlic kiss.
Chunks of chicken, loads of herbs
To liquid bliss.

A meal I’ve made from the earth
A pot of stew.
Thanks to your willing bounty,
I just ate soup.

Copyright © Rachel E. Watson 2015.

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