Smells

She doesn't talk to me
about romance,
and bottles of wine.

When I do her cooking, I tell her
all good things
begin with an onion.
I just diced one
and now I start.

Celery, green pepper,
corn, cabbage, chick peas, I love these
with cubed baked potato.
I toss in a little sugar to carmelize.

This is common food, food of the hand
we can all understand it, like the
simple commandments from the breath of God.

I stand at the frying pan
on a translucent bridge
over a trans-
substantial ravine.