Soup

Soup.

Once a salted, tugged open top

Eaten cold

In a classroom.

Every day, the only option.

Soup.

Still need to breathe

Steam for the March chill.

One cup,

Use what's left.

One tablespoon,

Plan for what could be.

Chop,

Check off what's too much.

Slice,

List what's too little.

Zucchini, tomatoes

Skins. Flesh.

Mint, basil

Sun. Warm.

Uneven push of pressure,

Gasp. Wind

Pepper, onions.

Glass jars washed not dusted

Lemon, cucumbers.

Seeds dried pop open packets

Not cans.

Soup.

Ready made ingredients,

Burnt.

Never seen pieces,

Roasted.

Dirt flakes,

Spice.

Water drips, bubbles, boils

Everything I canned,

I sucked the air out.

Tongues sip

Tongues say

More than survival.

Flavors more than words.

Not the only choice, my choice.

Soup.

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