My Beef Grief

For one year
you did lay dormant,
silvery skin unexposed
against frozen bones
broken by a blade.

Unwrapping you
from your protective ice,
I eased your temperament
from hibernation.

Placing you in a warm bath
I slowly caressed your
now exposed flesh,
massaging you back
to life.

Rubbing your bones
with great affection,
I began preparing you for
your next endeavor.

For five hours
I watched you from afar,
slowly warming up
for your first meal.

Pulling you
out of the dark
and into the light,
together we enjoyed
your first bite.

The prompt for Day 6 of National Poetry Writing Month is to write a poem about food. As a foodie myself, I enjoy smoking and grilling on my Big Green Egg. In this poem, I am describing beef ribs that were butchered over a year ago and were laying in my freezer. After five hours of smoking in my Big Green Egg, our meal was ready. Ironically, after great anticipation and preparation, my smoked beef ribs were less than enjoyable.