They Could Not Well Describe Him

How do you tell of it’s black home,
of the wall that hold the spices
How do you describe fulfillment?
knowing it feels home.

How about the sunlight so red?
How you stretch forth the hands of time.
I can still smell your victory,
I can taste defeat.

How do I describe you dear rice?
No one did well telling of you
They slandered your taste with sour tongues.
Sleep well in my pot.

Ruddapoet