Photo: Amitai Asif

“Be like a flower,” she said,

Wrinkles creasing like sun

‘Round her eyes.

“Be like cabbage, too!”

And she laughed

At my confusion and

Touched a calloused hand

To my cheek

For the umpteenth loving time.

“Bloom alone does not fill stomachs,”

She explained

And the years without

Flickered sad behind her smile

But did not interfere.

“Cabbage blooms as pretty as any,

Yet unlike most who wilt

At summer’s end,

It will hold goodness at the ready

To nourish you through winter.”

“Be like a flower, then,” she smiled.

“And like a cabbage, too.

For it will sustain you:

Bland or spiced or hot or cold

Until the snow melts

And you have lived to a new spring

And can, one day, grow old.”

For Cee’s FOTD challenge