Welcome to National Poetry Month (#npr2020). This month, I am sharing original poems about food and family. In these times of sheltering, food is comfort. A list of links to previous poems is HERE.
Today is a utensil which has been around since my great-grandfather’s time. It’s a three tined fork. I recently discovered that our family has several of these forks. My fork (on the left) suffered from accidentally being in the garbage disposal at the wrong time. The good news is that it’s still functional.
Today I actually have two poem drafts. The first is a double Fibonacci poem based on the idea that these forks probably were part of my great-grandfather’s mess kit in the Civil War. It is also based on one of his letters from the Civil War. The second is a response to a prompt from #TwoSylviasPress to write an aubade using something common (an aubade is a song at dawn)
My
Dear
Mother,
The turkey
arrived yesterday.
Yes, there was green mold on the skin
I used the three tined fork, exposed
the edible meat
underneath.
Grateful,
Your
Son
©jone rush macculloch (2020, draft)
Aubade with a Three Tined Fork
Morning
the sun breaking
above the ridge
Coffee
warms my hands
first birds singing
Bacon
sizzling a chorus
three tined fork turning
Morning
its quietness
spilling onto the page
©jone rush macculloch (2020, draft)
Jone Rush MacCulloch 
Jone, wow that is great that you have your grandfather’s fork and letters when he was in the Civil War! How amazing to know these facts about your grandfather and the time period. Fibonacci is the perfect choice for your letter poem. In your second poem your use of senses brings the poem alive. I love the idea of Morning quietness spilling onto the page and that each stanza is a haiku!gaila
Love these — very cool forks! Nice hearing about your great-grandfather in the Civil War — you’re lucky to have his letters!