Shrimp
by Amy Hosig, my dear friend
Bless these shrimp from Sing Hing
Restaurant
that I am about to eat,
that spent their life, hopefully,
jetting about
in odd, propulsive motion
without minds
and before language.
Oh you little shrimp
who involuntarily
died for me,
make me,
like the intelligent whale,
able to change you
into song.
2 comments:
Nicole, this is beautiful! I wish I could write as poetically as you and your friends. Since I can't, I'll just have to enjoy your darling blog!
xoxo
O Lane, it's so beautiful! These shrimp! Bless them! I once read this poem over and over to my students. I said, "I will read this poem to you until it changes your life," then I read it like fifteen times, and one of them raised her hand and said, "Okay, my life has changed." Ah, my work is done!
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