[Oddwen]

I sit beside the fire and think of all that I have cooked,
Of veggies, herbs, meats and broth that oh so fresh had looked
Or at least were not much spoiled in autumns that there were,
I could not sit for long downwind, so don't mind all the hair.
I sit beside the fire and think of how this meal will be,
For any who can stomach it, forsooth! twill not be me!



For still there are so many things that I have never eaten
In every pot on every fire there is a different green
I sit beside the fire and think of lunches long ago,
And people who will have a snack that I shall never know.
While all the while I sit and stew at what I've stewed before,
I listen for retreating feet and noises from thrown bowls