CENTRAL KITCHEN POEM

The World Central Kitchen has been doing the most tender work - helping people in need wherever they are.  Please consider donating – https://tinyurl.com/2s4xurvx

CENTRAL KITCHEN POEM

Just the steam

from the coffee pot

on the troubled forehead

soothes the mind.

The fruit from a vine

is your messenger.

In some rooms

no one is kind.

Roots eat the tree,

soil too hot

for the happiness

we wish to find.

Now here's a soup line -

simple, the pleasure

of being fed -

troubles unwind.

For a time

what's tender

is so touching

you are crying.

It's a feast,

the beast of capitalism

burns up

just in time

for no more war

no more stupidity.

We tasted your world.

We want to leave it behind. 

-       DL, 7/17/2024