Chilled Soba

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Chilled Soba

I am not
philosophical
today,

but hunger
concerns me.
Oh, not

real hunger
but a desire
to consume.

Afternoon
chews morning.
Evening

swallows afternoon.
Morning digests
night. And I,

slurping chilled
soba with
pickled ginger

and scallion,
wonder which verb
my days will choose.

 

 

“Chilled Soba,” first appeared in Kikwetu: A Journal of East African Literature in November 2018. I am grateful to the editors for accepting my poem.

 

 

14 thoughts on “Chilled Soba”

  1. Reading this before the day’s feeding begins … suddenly hungrier than I was five minutes back!
    Like your progression of chew, swallow, digest … there’s a sort of corresponding transformation overnight, too, morning often presents zero evidence of preceding day …
    Had to look up soba … now need to go shopping … seems a healthier alternative to pasta!

    Liked by 1 person

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    • The preceding day often comes back to haunt me. Hmm. I suppose that could be true of certain foods, too. Chilled soba is one of my favorite hot weather dishes. I often serve it with a smidgen of smoked salmon. Yum!

      Liked by 2 people

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