How I make my soup: I draw water from a tap . . . I am not an artist. And the water is not so much drawn as allowed to fall, and to capture itself in a pot. Perhaps not so much captured, as allowed to gather itself from its stream; the way it falls that the drain would have it. But in this case a normal path interrupted by a pot; for which soup is the outcome of all I do . . .
Added: 18 Feb 2002 | Last Read: 4 Sep 2026 12:47 AM | Viewed: 5566 times
A PoetryNotes™ eBook is available for this poem for delivery within 24 hours, and usually available within minutes during normal business hours.
ON SALE - only $29.95 19.95!
For more information...