A Stewing Chicken Poem
We have happened upon bad things,
and so many times we were shocked.
Just like a daisy game puzzle,
how riskly we fare into the trips.
What would be our play to make
sure of a win? Beloved
There's still one lesson to be learned.
Now the equinox day, wind piercingly cold.
Last evening, I stewed a chicken.
As an untranslatable poem,
we didn't become heartless but smarter.
Like delicious food, perhaps our happiness
will not only depend on some spices else.
It greatly inspired me, by the fireside.
March 20, 2021
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