somewhere in new zealand with a bowl of pasta

for a friend

i picture you some days – a utensil in one hand and your cheek

in the other, gazing somewhere in the distance as your

fork twirls endless endless spirals in the 

red white checkered bowl you found that morning,

just waiting in the cabinet for something, maybe you

maybe not

maybe avocados or oil or something

maybe not, maybe it wanted what you put in it, what

you wanted,

maybe it wanted the pasta and mushrooms that taste to you of home and someday –

this is how i picture you some days.

OverTheRainbow

VT

12 years old

More by OverTheRainbow

  • The West Wind

    The West Wind is a banker in a smart navy suit and a tie. His dress shoes clack on the pavement; he’s got someplace to be, always someplace to be, rushing to the sidewalk, the subway, the elevator, checking his gold Rolex watch.

  • the river in the woods

    is more of a creek,

    covered in yellow leaves and rotting branches 

    that staunch the flow like a bandage over blood.

    The river in the woods

    probably used to rush

    like its brothers farther north, shrieking