Poetry About Basil Tomato Soup

Rain beads along the kitchen window. Tomatoes loosen into a red, patient broth. Basil darkens beneath the wooden spoon. Two bowls wait beside a torn loaf. Outside, the evening keeps its cold distance. Inside, supper makes a small weather of its own.

Look past the first familiar name. Tomatoes loosen into a red, patient broth. The smallest detail changes the scale. Two bowls wait beside a torn loaf. What seemed simple gathers another meaning. Inside, supper makes a small weather of its own.

Rain beads along the kitchen window. Time moves, but the image does not leave. Basil darkens beneath the wooden spoon. It returns us to garden herbs, simmering tomatoes, shared bowls, and the comfort of food made slowly. Outside, the evening keeps its cold distance. The day continues with a more attentive heart.