Split pea soup's simplicity
testifies to warm bread's
complexity. The soup, bread,
and I heard the young mother
ask the little girl pulling up
a chair to help finish and stir,
"Is there enough salt, Viv?"
Brushing her bangs back
from her eyes she dipped
her spoon. Blowing first,
sipping twice, once in earnest
consultation with her taste
buds, the next time smacking
her lips zestfully, she declared
it perfect. And so did I.
