The Potato Eaters
Sometimes, the naked taste of potato
reminds me of being poor.
The first bites are gratitude,
the rest, contented boredom.
The little kitchen still flickers
like a candle-lit room in a folktale.
Never again was my father so angry,
my mother so still as she set the table,
or I so much at home.
6 thoughts on “Angry Spring”
Wow! Crazy sky. Love how silvery the trees look against the blue. Great catch.
Fantastic sky. Love it.
brooding and brilliant.
Stunning image… Love the contrasts!
A very talented photographer! Beautiful.