Five potatoes, preferably brown butter mashed
as colour in the sky turns to stormful ash
a dash of kosher salt, pepper and chopped chives
five poems left until the end of the month arrives.
Now add herb-garlic cheese and follow the recipe
I ponder upon life, its truth and its brevity.
Five hours, five minutes pass like they’re nothing
if troubles arise don’t ever dream of running.
Five seconds to figure whether we love or hate,
but first we must devour the dish that awaits.
Photo credits: Pinterest
Posted for Poems in April @ Real Toads