sing me a tune

A tapestry weaved of great grains and cat's claw
fades beneath that old pot; heavy with jambalaya.

Slow cookin'.

Feathery herbs tumble.
Mortared and pestled.

Babies nap.
Dappled in sun.
Legs fat
like ginger root.

Big leaves; elephant's ears
seem to listen

So -- I -- hum.

Woodsy as
your broken flute.