[A bit of a seasonal meditation from our favorite Rockstar Poet-in-Residence, as she contemplates craving & disappointment. Another lovely poem & drawing—enjoy!]
I don’t really like the taste of food that much.
Not the way I’ve seen other people truly enjoy it.
However, I do have one exception.
There is one taste that I spend 10 months waiting for,
and two months savoring.
I crave it in April.
I crave it in June.
I crave it in the heat of summer and two days after
they’re out of it at the grocery store in January.
And in those two blissful months that Egg Nogg is
flowing like a breath stealing, cream-colored stream….
My thirst for it is insatiable.
It hit the stores yesterday.
I purchased my first half-gallon of the season
in a fevered state, and I could feel it slip down my throat
from the moment I reached for the carton.
I perused the dairy section for a full fifteen minutes
trying to decide which flavor to try first.
Because when Egg Nogg is an option, the selection of
styles is seemingly unending.
Lite, Traditional, Laesch, Kemp’s, Premium, and on and on.
I chose carefully.
This was not an impulse buy.
This was not a key chain or a lock de-icer.
This was, after all, Egg Nogg.
I left the store with all the eagerness of a twenty-one year old
purchasing his first legal bottle of booze.
And when I got home, I poured myself the perfect glass of my seasonal addiction.
But when I tasted it,
when all of the sweetness of it ran over my tongue,
I thought of you.
And I realized that maybe I was never meant to have
any of the sweeter things in life.
That maybe I shouldn’t set my heart on something
that I’ll only be able to have for a short time.
Because it only makes everything more difficult when
the Egg Nogg isn’t available anymore.
I dumped the rest of the glass down the sink.
And I left the carton in the fridge.
Maybe someone else will drink it.
Someone who won’t become as addicted to it.
Barbie Dockstader Angell.