It happens. Stuff gets lost. This year alone, I've lost a leather glove, two umbrellas, a pair of headphones, a serving spoon, and a brand new sweatshirt. Oh, and my mind. Perhaps it's on some random street corner, between a pile of leaves and a yogurt shop.
I've also lost the recipe for this wheat berry and grape salad with dried figs. I keep all my recipes in brightly-colored journals, to minimize things like flying paper scraps and spontaneous disappearance. But this one seems to have vanished, or been written in invisible ink, or both, so unless anyone's got a decoder light, or a recipe homing device, I'm afraid it's gone forever.
And so, I offer you this eulogy, in verse:
You are so wheaty.
With grapes, you are also grapey.
And with figs, you are also very
I wonder if anyone knows I am
Writing this pathetic excuse for a poem because I feel guilty
That I haven't blogged in a week.
Hopefully no one will notice that it's not very sophisticated.
If the world had more wheat berry salads with grapes and figs
There would be no more sadness, war, poverty, disease, TSA-scans, Two and a Half Men, methyl iodide on strawberries, rusty nails, bacon cupcakes, or formaldehyde-laden hair straightening products.
There would only be joy, lightness, love, peace, health, well-being, ocean breezes, sunny days, and toffee.
And a universal lost-and-found, where I could find you, shower you with kisses, and ask you if you'd seen
My missing glove.
And also my sweatshirt.