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Poetry —Delicious dishes nestled together waiting for the dip of my chopsticks like an oar slicing into the ocean
the contents of my bento box
form a savory honeycomb of particles
each compartmentalized into their own squares
my wooden chopsticks mingle with
the crackling acidity of
pickled vegetables nestled against
a quivering ripple of tuna sashimi
fresh pink hue glistening against
the smooth black and red lacquer box
cloud-white rice settles deep in a corner
and a golden pork cutlet is laid daintily on top
like a teacup resting in a saucer
I make my way through the labyrinth
of contrasting textures and flavors
losing my way a few times
but all is well at the end
with a cup of green tea
