by Carolyn Wells
I see you in a tub of champagne grapes
The juice runs down your neck.
The must between your toes
turns to cognac.
I see you in a tossed green salad,
curly frisee, bitter endive, green roquette,
dressed with oil from Sardinia.
my toasted crottin chavignol.
I see you in a wetlands of cattails
In spring I slice the tender root.
In fall I pound the head for flour,
Make cattail pancakes I feed you
So you can taste what I know.
|Carolyn Wells is Executive Chef at St. Bernard's School in New York City. She learned cooking in France and Italy and has run art and writing workshops in Tuscany, Sardinia and Burgundy. She is an avid lover of linguistics and speaks French, Italian and Spanish. She is a member of and helps coordinate a New York City poetry group called Brevitas. Brevitas celebrates the art of the short poem. She lives in Brooklyn and does yoga as much as possible. In her spare time she forages for food in Maine and Pennsylvania and rides her horse Sam.|