Salad Suizen
Like the lone slice of cucumber
in the dinner salad,
I fear that I am not worthy
of such distinction.
No bottled dressing could mask my ineptitude.
I am that wedge of unripe winter tomato,
those pieces of lettuce bred for travel,
the black olive rounds fresh from the can.
So much to enjoy in mediocrity.
My wind sputters and fizzles.
Fingers struggle to cover the holes.
Failures accrue like compound interest
and still I persist.
Perhaps I might add croutons, red onion.
More space. Crumbled feta. Silence.
“Salad Suizen” first appeared in Ethel in August 2019.
I feel an empathy with this feeling, Bob. Especially I note the two words – persist and silence…..
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Dan. Sometimes it’s a bit of a struggle, but I’m stubborn. π
LikeLike
The frustration(s) of the shakuhachi and/or the process of suizen, as metaphor-ized in salad form… brilliant!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Music, or attempting to make something that resembles it, humbles me. My days are replete with things I can only approach from ignorance, but trying to learn (and failing) keeps me going.
LikeLike
I do love the brilliant analogies you bring.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I live in the ordinary. There’s poetry everywhere, if we look.
LikeLike
Pingback: Salad Suizen β O at the Edges – All About Writing and more