Kim Stone Poet Free verse

Suzeeka

My mother did it again!
     She laid it pridefully on my plate.
     A coagulated, creative, colorful texture.
     She called it Suzeeka.


     I said, "wait!"
     "Oh mom of mine what is this feast?"
     She studied the mound carefully and said,
     "Well it's green and brown."
     I took my fork and stirred it around.
     "It's healthy too".


     I sniffed at the phosphorescent glow.
     "But I still want to know!"
     "Is it fit to eat or will I groan in my sleep?"
     "My dear", she said in a huff, " I make it three hundred days
     a year. I notice that you are healthy 
                 and still here."


     She turned around.
     I quietly slid the Suzeeka off my plate and on to the ground.
     Murmuring softly to myself, I debated the fate of what had been
                  on my plate!
     "See, I knew you would like it if you tried it," she said.
     "And it filled you up better than bread!"

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