What I Do

In the mornings I write books,

in the afternoons I think about food

and its preparation, and in the evenings

we, meaning all who gather

at our table, eat this food. Of course,


there are variations

to these routines. For instance,

while I’m thinking about dinner,

I may also be working

in my garden, or going to a movie


or meeting a friend, and the food

for the moment is a side issue,

but it is one to which I must always

return. And, while we are eating, I may

well be thinking about what I might write


in the morning, nothing is ever clear

cut, like food, not cut and dried

as they say. But this much is true: when

the food is eaten, I may think about love,

although a part of me says, anyway,

that this has been going on all day.


Fiona Kidman


Birthday greetings, Paula. My sixties were some of the best years of my life. I’ve chosen this poem for you, in celebration and admiration of the beautiful, evocative way you link food with the senses, memory and love. Fiona


One comment on “What I Do

  1. Food always creeps into my poems. In my latest collection, nearly finished, I have tried to keep food at bay. But there it is, here and there. I adore this poem, because it is like a little hand mirror. I love the smudgings and overlaps of daily routine. i particularly like the last stanza — the way nothing is ever cut and dried (culinary or gardening terms, when you think about it). Some poems always stay at arm’s length and you find it impossible traverse the gap, while other poems, such as this one, spark and connect and matter. Thank you.


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