Winter is a time for hearty meals like thick soups and beef stew. This got me to thinking about one of my favorite poems: Pot Roast by Mark Strand. In his poem, a plate of pot roast brings back memories of the first time Strand tasted the meal...of his mother serving him a second helping. While everything around him seems bleak, the "power of food"...the "meat of memory" provides him with sustenance.
From POT ROAST
by Mark Strand
So I bend
to inhale
the steam that rises
from my plate, and I think
of the first time
I tasted a roast
like this.
It was years ago
in Seabright,
Nova Scotia;
my mother leaned
over my dish and filled it
and when I finished
filled it again.
I remember the gravy,
its odor of garlic and celery,
and sopping it up
with pieces of bread.
And now
I taste it again.
The meat of memory.
The meat of no change.
I raise my fork
and I eat.
to inhale
the steam that rises
from my plate, and I think
of the first time
I tasted a roast
like this.
It was years ago
in Seabright,
Nova Scotia;
my mother leaned
over my dish and filled it
and when I finished
filled it again.
I remember the gravy,
its odor of garlic and celery,
and sopping it up
with pieces of bread.
And now
I taste it again.
The meat of memory.
The meat of no change.
I raise my fork
and I eat.
Click here to read the rest of the poem.
The Poetry Friday Roundup is at Reading to the Core this week.
Love this poem, and am craving pot roast now, of course! :)
ReplyDeleteYum.
ReplyDeleteWinter is indeed the time of year for comfort food. This week, for us, it is lentil soup, but we're already talking about chicken and noodles for next week!
Yum. I love a food can conjure up so much more than just something to eat--the memories and connections.
ReplyDeleteI am constantly amazed at how our senses take us back. Scents too. And even the rush of memories from a visual; a memento from a significant event, or a snapshot. Our brain is amazing, how it stores and retrieves seemingly insignificant details.
ReplyDelete