To concoct a potion for clarity about the future
Arise at the PRIME hour
Into a tiny cup
WHISK together three quail eggs
Drop in one anise seed
And two drops of dew
Holding the cup
Closing your eyes
Spin around
And on the SIXTH rotation
Open your eyes
And where your SIGHT lands
Will be the way your path lies
Quickly swallow the potion
To seal your fate
And to ensure that
A clarifying dream
Will come to you that night

Georg’ann

When my world seems off kilter,
I CLEAN the refrigerator.
Taking everything out,
wiping from top to bottom.
Oh joyous suds and sparkle.
Here things can be made right.
The worse I feel, the better she looks.

All items to spread on bread
in a GROUP,
as are the enhancers – red curry,
tube of tomato paste, capers, olives,
sesame oil, soy sauce and such.
Those clear door pockets filled TIGHT,
ordered by category.

Everything in SIGHT, ready to go.
No creepy crusts or crumbs,
no sticky residues, forgotten
bits of this and that in containers
that shouldn’t be opened.
No more shriveled lime,
withered greens, molded zucchini.

Want to know my state of being?
Check the refrigerator.

Heather