Monday, October 14, 2013


artwork: vincent van gogh

by M.J. Iuppa

If the color yellow runs out
with what will we make bread?
                      ~ Neruda

Without sun’s warm buttery light
spilling onto the kitchen’s table–

without lemons resting side by side
in our mother of pearl bowl–

without candlelight sputtering
surprise– yelp of the yellow dog

lying across the threshold, listening
for slow footsteps returning

to an hour that’s groundless
in its long wait– the clock’s tick

unlocks the world mimicking
other worldliness– when all we wanted

was to break bread. Forgetfulness
sounds like forgiveness when yellow

runs out in the way  fields of winter
wheat sway in question . . .
See how dark mahogany rises–
coarse swell of sourdough–

this steaming loaf found
in the hands of strangers.

~ first published in Tar River Poetry.