Scalloped Edge


The searing pan and succulent meet

Crisped in a puddle of sweet creamery butter

Warmed under a gentle and steady flame

You knew my name

Didn’t have to ask for a thing

This was an offering, a gift

From the see, 

A perfect pairing with Gorgonzola 

Freshly ground

Grinding black pepper and a gentle nibble

I trembled at the plate

Each bite dissolving doubt of memory or sin

Gone fishing on the gentle shore

Where the line between the ocean and horizon live 

Come alive, came, lived in the oily faces on the undulating surface of the lapping crests

I revisit its taste amidst the waste of ash and empty nothingness of everything else

Where am I

In that place between darkest night and mourning blonde light stands still in a memory

Elegy of the love that was and always will be

A tender scalloped edge 

6 thoughts on “Scalloped Edge

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