A Conversation Mid-Stream

And the man said,
your oar is filled with holes.
It’s not an oar, said I, it’s a holy spoon,
and I, sat in my canoe, glided upon
the position he held,
a gargoyle guarding
dead middle
of the stream.

You mean a holey spoon, he said,
a slotted spoon, he thought,
as waves licked the salt from his belt.
No, said I, a holy spoon,
like a holy cow,
or a holy grail.
Mine, said I,
is a holy spoon –
I cook.

Margo’s Mirror-Mirror Try-Outs
Photo inspiration at http://thisfragiletent.com/2012/08/20/the-ghost-of-the-kyles/

Author: Misky

‘Misky’ lives in the UK surrounded by flowers, freshly baked bread, and always keeps dog biscuits in her pocket for her blind Springer Spaniel. She never buys clothing without pockets. Her work is widely published.

6 thoughts on “A Conversation Mid-Stream”

  1. Oh, I like this very, very much! While I am not the greatest of ‘cooks’ I’d like to think I have a few ‘holy’ spoons. Reminds me of the story of two sets of people given long handled spoons at a feast…one group whined and complained because they could not feed themselves. The other group enjoyed their meal because they fed each other.

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