Breadcrumbs: A Poetry Collection

Perrenial Salad

In January
Carrot tops poked up over snowy banks,
Unaffected by frozen winds
Perhaps excited that the deer and rabbits
Had finally retreated home for the winter
And they could stretch out tired leaves
Just far enough for me to pluck
Peel, and serve with a dressing

In February
Winter-touched trees were mimicked
By eggshell colored cauliflower
Not quite as lovely as real flowers,
But still the perfect ingredient
For a gluten-free rice pilaf
So mom can enjoy her favorite food again

In March
Nostalgic baby-doll daydreams were brought
By cabbage heads in neat rows
Wrapped leaf bouquets
That added a delightsome compliment
To St. Paddy's potatoes and corned beef
With a little help from peppercorn
And a slow cooker

In April
Garlic and onions filled the block
With deep aromas and watery eyes
That matched the thunderstorm skies
And punched soups and casseroles
With rich and intoxicating flavors
Leaving behind a compost pile
Full of nature's wrapping paper

In May
Pink stalks of rhubarb spilled forth
Umbrella leaves pushing away dense clouds
And sun that finally remembered to shine
Protecting that stinging, sour taste
And preparing it for pies and crumbles
Cooling on windowsills
As an invitation for summer to arrive

In June
Apron pockets filled with strawberries
Fat with sweet juices and childlike joy
Digging through nets that kept out birds
To find the plumpest and reddest
Ready to be mashed into jams or preserves
Layered in an angel-food cake
Or simply snacked on during hot afternoons

In July
Cucumbers fell from vines,
Longer and riper than the summer before
Practically bursting at the seams
With a crisp, watery heart
That quenched thirst when the tap couldn't
Rivaling stumpy melons
Who never tasted as good on toast
With cream cheese

In August
Plums changed from yellow to red to purple
At long last soft enough to devour
In only a bite or two
And cousins would spend hours finding
Who could spit their pit the furtherest
The reward being a nauseated stomach
Sick from throwing down plums
Like shots at a bar

In September
Berries were swapped with snap peas
Who never promised much
Yet somehow always delighted us
With an entertaining crunch that echoed
And a kitchen floor covered in beans
That rolled away before we could catch them
Covering our socks with mash
Before we swept the floor

In October
The apple tree turned Christmas colored
And ladders went up to gather
Both the sweet and the sour
Crates that simply begged to be filled
That would stack in the garage
Ready to be turned into applesauce
And next months holiday pie
Or to be shoved in lunchboxes by children
On their way to school

In November
Potatoes were finally unearthed
We stopped caring about clean hands
And dug through dirt like pirates
Searching for an earthy, starchy treasure
Ovens begin preheating for wedges and fries
And tin-foil wrapped bakes
That leave mouths gooey
With sour cream and cheese

In December
I harvested nothing
But sank back into my armchair
To ponder on the fruits of my labors
Cans stacked in my pantry
My heart and belly full
Each flavor bringing with it new memories
Gazing out the window I watch
The green heads of carrots
Begin to poke through the snow