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.
O at the Edges 
Love this, Robert- especially which verb I’ll choose.
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That verb is ever-changing!
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Indeed it is!
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That was my favorite line as well!
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I’m so pleased it worked for you, Liz.
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🙂
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What a great poem. I especially like the way you ended it.
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Thanks, Ali! We have so many verbs to choose from.
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I am thankful for that.
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