Poem of Day: “Roasted Chicken” by Mary Soon Lee, Frequent Contributor

Roasted Chicken

Mary Soon Lee

The first recipe in the book

my daughter gave me:

one chicken, roasted.

I buy my chickens precooked--

hot, mouth-watering,

legs pinioned with string.

String that the recipe book

called "butcher's twine,"

which I did not have.

As I did not have 

rosemary (fresh) or thyme (fresh),

nor kosher salt, nor peanut oil.

One shopping trip later,

armed with supplies,

we confronted the chicken.

Tenderly, Lucy placed

rosemary and thyme

inside the raw beast.

She watched, patient,

as I trussed a chicken

for the first time.

She watched, undismayed,

as the chicken untrussed itself

in the skillet.

Before us it danced, sizzled --

browning, fragrant. Her eyes

followed it into the oven.

Before we even ate,

she filled me up.

Poet's Notes: I am neither a willing nor an able cook, but when my daughter was seven years old, she gave me a cookery book and we attempted several recipes together. Her company changed a chore into a privilege.