Today’s sonnet also comes from this year’s Poem A Day prompt (this prompt was “salty”). Expect this to happen a lot over the next few weeks; life is a bit crazy, and the recent poems are low-hanging fruit.
Other than that, there’s not much to say about today’s poem, other than it’s a vignette from Thanksgiving.
And I liked the alliteration. Sonnet Sunday Seventy-Seven: Salty. Mmm.
Originally written November 24, 2018
“How do the mashed potatoes taste?” I asked.
It was Thanksgiving morning, and my niece
Was helping me prepare them for the feast,
Since Andrea was eager for a task
To do with me. We drained them, added milk,
And butter, garlic powder, pepper, salt.
We mashed them smooth until I called a halt
To taste them—see if they were smooth as silk,
Decide if they required more seasonings.
She tasted them. “It needs more salt,” she said.
I added salt—and had not been misled.
I marveled at how such a little thing
Could make such a big difference in the taste:
No little action ever goes to waste.