Friday, February 17, 2012

Cabbage Soup

Now my ideal is the housewife
My greatest wish, a quiet life
And a big bowl of cabbage soup

from Doctor Zhivago
by Boris Pasternak

The Couple
Day after day their deep love softly decays.
This makes them wise. It makes them want to sing.
Sometimes, over cups in the kitchen or stirring
a warm soup in the dark, they feel such tenderness
as to turn quietly weeping for each other's arms.
Weeping. Song. They are so much alike after all.

in After the Reunion: Poems
by David Baker

These love poems appear along with several others
on my fortnightly post for Valentine's Day
"Love You Can't Imagine"

The Fortnightly Kitti Carriker:
A Fortnightly [every 14th & 28th] Literary Blog of
Connection & Coincidence; Custom & Ceremony

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