Four- Thirty Thoughts
I don’t really like the taste of food that much.
Not really.
Not the way I’ve seen other people truly enjoy it.
However, I do have one exception.
There is one taste that I spend 10 months waiting for,
and two months savoring.
Egg Nogg.
I crave it in April.
I crave it in June.
I crave it in the heat of summer and two days after
they’re out of it at the grocery store in January.
And in those two blissful months that Egg Nogg is
flowing like a breath stealing, cream-colored stream….
My thirst for it is insatiable.
It hit the stores yesterday.
I purchased my first half-gallon of the season
in a fevered state, and I could feel it slip down my throat
from the moment I reached for the carton.
I perused the dairy section for a full fifteen minutes
trying to decide which flavor to try first.
Because when Egg Nogg is an option, the selection of
styles is seemingly unending.
Lite, Traditional, Laesch, Kemp’s, Premium, and on and on.
I chose carefully.
This was not an impulse buy.
This was not a key chain or a lock de-icer.
This was, after all, Egg Nogg.
I left the store with all the eagerness of a twenty-one year old
purchasing his first legal bottle of booze.
And when I got home, I poured myself the perfect glass of my seasonal addiction.
But when I tasted it,
when all of the sweetness of it ran over my tongue,
I thought of you.
And I realized that maybe I was never meant to have
any of the sweeter things in life.
That maybe I shouldn’t set my heart on something
that I’ll only be able to have for a short time.
Because it only makes everything more difficult when
the Egg Nogg isn’t available anymore.
I dumped the rest of the glass down the sink.
And I left the carton in the fridge.
Maybe someone else will drink it.
Someone who won’t become as addicted to it.
written by barbie dockstader angell.
copyright 2009.
10 Responses
Zach thinks you are the girl for him! He is the nog lover and bitches to high heaven every Jan 2nd, when nog is no longer in Ingles!
i am the girl for zach….just don’t tell his mom.
Interesting. Eggnog represents something deeper here for certain. Is waiting that which puts the sweetness in a reward? And, can too much time sour the batch? Does time, which sweetnes the wine (or eggnog) embitter it if too much time has passed?
ah yes, it does represent something deeper. a guy. never got to the sweetness though. but i do get your point, the poem is a little stale. : )
I was pretty sure it was love related. But the poem isn’t stale at all. Is it possible that longing can ruin as well as sweeten?
in the world of love, all is possible. : ) i have personally experienced both.
This poem isn’t at all stale, Barbie–it’s good! It is different from a lot of your work in that it’s free verse, but you write free verse well too, in no small part because you have such a well-developed “voice” (an overused word in poebiz, but applicable in your case!) This one would make a great selection on RFBanjo during the holiday season I’m thinking. One completely unsolicited thought that you can consider or ignore as you think best: what would the poem be like without the last two lines? I’m really happy to see you posting about your wonderful poetry : )
thank you. : ) it took me a while to start writing free verse. it was another one of those things people said i “couldn’t do” so i had to prove them wrong. you may absolutely use it on your site for the holidays, thanks for the offer.
as for the last two lines, the poem was based on a true story. in reality, i did put the boy back on the shelf and let someone else have him….i don’t know if she became addicted to him too or not. i also don’t know if he ever realized the poem was about him, but he does have a copy of it. i think in my brain the story of the boy would be unfinished without those lines, although the story of the egg nogg doesn’t need them.
i’ll have to think about it. : )
Great! I’ll plan on posting it sometime between Thanksgiving & Xmas! Of course, it’ll be posted exactly as you want it 🙂
awesome. : ) that will give me time to think about those last two lines.