Outlandish by Kelvin Fowler

Outlandish

An aroma of pork and milk
escaping through creased skin
emanating from the lines in her face
smile lines
simple, honest smile lines
releasing the luxurious scent
of a simple peasant.

Dancing behind her skin
a pair of emerald eyes
revealing a heart
empty and overflowing
searching for a place to give.

And I was that place
a traveller, a foreigner
passing through
tired, sore and hungry
and needing nourishment.

A village breakfast
sausage and eggs,
black bread, tomato,
cheese, cucumber and honey.
Coffee, strong, rich,
long black tar.

This is the soul
of a village farming wife
good food
strong coffee
for simple folk.

Seeing my weariness
feeling my tiredness
she gave me
stuffed in sweating plastic
a village lunch.

A single glistening tomato
heavy black bread
and couched in between
was one and a half inches
of delicious
artery clogging
pork fat.

The generosity of a peasant
an outlandish gift
fat on my bones
for another hard
and hot day
on the road.

By Kelvin Fowler.

I am a Kiwi who grew up just south of Dunedin, New Zealand. I am presently working with, among other people groups, orphans in the ex-Soviet country of Lithuania. I enjoy many styles of writing, painting and photography. For more poetry and to contact me please visit www.lunch.lt