Eating Meditation
By
John I. Blair
Reclining here with my book
I break my midday fast
By eating tuna salad
On squares of oatnut toast.
Pleasant tasting, quick to make,
Not much for praise, except
The fierce fish, leaping through
Pacific waters, hooked
By weathered fishermen,
Then packed by California
Cannery workers
In steel from Ontario ore.
Crisp, tart pickle relish
Brined from prickly cucumbers
Plucked from sun-warmed vines
In Pennsylvania.
Oats and wheat from Minnesota
Milled in Wichita,
Then molded into loaves
By Dallas bakers.
And all the truckers, stockers,
Warehousemen, checkers, sackers
Who shepherded this food
Into my kitchen.
And I won’t even start
About the mayonnaise!
©2005 John I. Blair
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