Today, a slice of poetry after feeling like I could it from reading the post on Two Writing Teachers. So inspired. Definitely will try this with my kids.
I knew I wanted Pho.
Thought of the usual place,
Worried I would run out of time.
Instead, Pho 3000.
I hadn’t been in quite some time.
I walked in,
Sat at the table I used to frequent,
feeling some sense of recognition for the woman who
brought me a pot of tea and took my order.
My core, frozen.
I needed pho to chase away the chill.
Three limes, hoisin, basil, chili sauce, a few bean spouts.
Steam danced up my face, over my tongue, around my nose
I paused before eating, then
The noodles, chunks of chicken and the customized broth melded.
Soon, only broth remained.
I chased down a half-eaten noodle and spooned up the last bit of broth.
This place that used to be so much a part of my routine,
site of some great memories, meals with friends.
Dinner, now, with myself.
Different, but still, in some ways, the same.