Hungry

If you remember that
one time, when
we’d stripped the pantry of all
its infinite possibilities,
and decided
to drudge through the snow
to the grocery store,
when we smiled at
the melancholic melons and
grinned at the grapes,
when we overlooked the avocados,
when we staged
the great rhododendron heist,
but failed
to steal anything of value,
then please do tell me
all about it.
I hardly remember a thing.

I’ll be outside raking
at the snow
while you make me
chamomile tea.