Dinner with Jizo Published in Somersault: An INGLY Writers Prose & Poetry Anthology, Volume 1

Jizo smiles beyond my plate,
watches me pause,
a cube of tofu
pressed against my lips,
then spear a sprig
of still crunchy broccoli that
grew in my garden
an hour before.

Through a glass of red wine,
I peer back at Jizo,
note the tear in his left eye
a bit of coconut oil?
Your tear is fading, I say,
It seemed to appear when my tiny grandson moved in.
Was that too much to bear,
protector of mothers and children?

Jizo smiles, silent, surrounded by shiny rocks,
that once garnished the desk
where I counseled future healers.
Now I focus cell phone on plate and statue,
snap a picture,
savor deep green spinach,
shameless red and white Chioggia beets,
orange carrots, a bit of brown rice.

When the bowl is clean,
Jizo smiles,
“Are you going to eat that square of dark chocolate?”

2016

https://www.amazon.com/Somersault-INGLY-Writers-Poetry-Anthology/dp/0988221543