Conversation with an Uncooked Egg
“To crack or not to crack,
that is the question.”
The egg remained stoic, white
showed no signs of responsive
movement.
I pondered this reticence in the face
of consumption, tried again to engage.
“Do you, in fact, pre-date infamous
chicken?”
Nothing. Egg refused to even crack
a smile.
I continued, alone in this diatribe.
“Is it wrong that I am okay with
cracking/frying/digesting you,
knowing that – were my intentions
swayed – you might have gone on
to hatch/grow/lay eggs of your own?”
Egg held tough, conceded no display
of emotion. My rantings, ignored.
I went for the jugular, more personal
with fatalistic undertones. “Do you have
a serving preference? Shall I scramble?
Turn you over, easy? Poach?”
Not even a blink. Just blank
resignation, silent strength.
Defeated by such a show of courage,
I forfeit. “You win.” I replace
fragile orb in carton, move on to bacon
for a more self-indulgent solace.
A.J. Huffman is a poet and freelance writer in Daytona Beach, Florida. She has previously published six collections of poetry all available on Amazon.com. She has also published her work in numerous national and international literary journals. She has is the editor for six online poetry journals for Kind of a Hurricane Press ( www.kindofahurricanepress.com ). Find more about A.J. Huffman, including additional information and links to her work at http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100000191382454 and https://twitter.com/#!/poetess222.
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