A Pot of Red Lentils

A Pot of Red Lentils

by Peter Pereira

simmers on the kitchen stove.

All afternoon dense kernels

surrender to the fertile

juices, their tender bellies

swelling with delight.

In the yard we plant

rhubarb, cauliflower, and artichokes,

cupping wet earth over tubers,

our labor the germ

of later sustenance and renewal.

Across the field the sound of a baby crying

as we carry in the last carrots,

whorls of butter lettuce,

a basket of red potatoes.

I want to remember us this way—

late September sun streaming through

the window, bread loaves and golden

bunches of grapes on the table,

spoonfuls of hot soup rising

to our lips, filling us

with what endures.


For more poems by Peter Pereira, and a little bit about the poet, please visit :

http://www.poetryfoundation.org/archive/poet.html?id=5309