Mezze in Midwinter
And start with salt, oil –
beginner of dinners –
olives from a hot hillside.
And alchemy of cheese,
butter, flour transformed
by steamy intensities.
And remember Brillat-Savarin –
“truffles are the diamond of the kitchen”,
emerging black and sparkling from leaf mould.
And a spoonful tastes of the past,
of water and summer and hedgerows
and cauldrons and gold.
And Bramley’s undressed, she’s lost
her glossy green gown
and plays camouflage.
And our mouths are full of Africa –
the sun inside her.
And so we dance on the altar
of our lives, casting veils
from rounded bellies – attar of roses.