Appetite
At the end of her life, so much left undone.
So much promise left to be won.
So much sugar left unspun.
So many recipes left in the book.
So many foods left to be cooked.
So many meals left to be tasted.
So many roasts left to be basted.
So many tastes left to devour.
Her appetite still grows be the hour.
Even her stomach growl shows power.
Collected in boxes, bags, and barrels
her recipes keep her up all night.
She comes to bed now, and we turn off the light.
