Poem: Bulgogi
Author: Harper Kingsley
The sizzle of the meat on the charcoal grill
makes even the coldest of days feel homelike,
dreamy, reminiscent of a childhood spent wandering the hills.
Barefoot and laughing, joyous without worries,
each bite takes me back to that time,
when the world was possible and every hope was mine.
Wrapping bits of meat with fresh lettuce leaves
plucked straight from the garden,
garnishing with garlic and spice.
Sipping barley tea and watching as watermelons are split,
juice running wild, black seeds escaping into the grass,
a delicious end to a wonderful life.
