Lightly Crumbled

Photo by Caroline Attwood, Unsplash

The scraps of friends’ mid-morning chats,
when we’ve had time to chew the fat,
what someone loves, what someone hates,
lie lightly crumbled on my plate.

Unfinished tasty anecdotes,
a tarty zest that someone spoke –
the leftovers of what we ate,
lie lightly crumbled on my plate.

A grain of sweetness softly said,
a crust of proven friendship bread,
a shard of worries halved in weight,
lie lightly crumbled on my plate.

Dried remnants of these thoughts for food
which raise our spirits, help the mood,
(it seems we need these more of late),
lie lightly crumbled on my plate.

This is a Kyrielle, ( http://www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/kyrielle.html)which I am linking to Muri’s Poetry Scavenger Hunt prompt no 8. (https://murisopsis.wordpress.com/2022/03/30/looking-forward-to-poetry-month/).

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