Markets shuttered religiously
Sunday and Monday,
we lucked into
a small shop
in a neighboring village
selling local vegetables
verduras
bucking tradition
in a tiny town
in a catholic country.
Rows piled high
with rainbows of spring
primavera;
asparagus, green garlic,
onions, peas,
rapini, radicchio.
The coiffed grocer
offered kindly to
clean the artichokes
of their daggerous thorns;
peligroso she exclaimed,
dangerous.
The dozen returned
wrapped in paper
like roses for a funeral
sheared
shorn
stripped of character,
demanding to be cooked
quickly
the rosebud
the tender young choke
exposed
deflowered.
Oddly saddened,
longing for the beauty
of the whole creature,
vegetable, fish, fowl
or four-legged creature,
for my two hands
to take apart
to break down
allowing time
for reflection
for joy
for gratitude
even amidst
the mess of
bones, blood, thorns.
#italy #piedmont #langhe #carciofi (at Bossolasco)
Late afternoon light streams through a hay barn,
cows wail underfoot
waiting to be fed.
A neighboring field,
stubbly from last year’s corn harvest
alights with birds
and pyramids of manure,
like dark stacks
imagined by Van Gogh,
their steam rising
against the reds
of the setting sun.
#italy #piedmont #langhe #farmlife (at Strada Romantica delle Langhe e del Roero)