by poet Christina Ward
A simple device
Sleek, rounded edges
Crafted from some kind of wood
From some kind of tree
That once took in liquid
And sun
And bug expeditions
Housed a Pileated Woodpecker
Maybe a Pine Warbler
Or two,
Your purpose has changed.
I twist your sleekness between my fingers,
Hear your contents roll
Chalky, black pebbles within
Twist and grind and grate
A blend of pungent sprinkles
Stir briefly in the air
Then settle into hot potato soup
About the Poet
Christina Ward earned her B.S. and writing minor from Catawba College in North Carolina. Her writing, rich with imagery, nature themes, and raw analysis of human nature, has been published in the Cameo, the Arrowhead, Wolff Poetry Literary Magazine on her blog Fiddleheads & Floss. Awards include the 2004 Arrowhead Prose Award.
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There are very few poets that could create wonderful poetry about a pepper mill. You are their leader! This is brilliant Christina!! Well done! 🙂
Thank you Walt. We really DO write about ANYTHING don’t we 🙂
That we do Christina, that we do. 🙂
You’ve made the pepper mill interesting. I do believe you’ve made it important for me to look at every day items much differently from now on! Thanks, Christina!
Thank you so much Susi. There is poetry in the mundane. Look for beauty everywhere!
Definitely! Thank you again, I enjoyed your piece very much. 🙂