Breakfast

So many things
you’d not have thought of
until they were given.
Even the simple-
a cottage cheese sandwich,
a heron’s contractable neck.
You eat. You look.
Then you look back and it’s over.
This life. This flood-
unbargained for as lasting love was-
of lasting oddness.

My Sandwich
by Jane Hirshfield

Cottage cheese and last summer's home canned plums.
Just ordinary poetry, but still delicious.

“Hope makes a good breakfast. Eat plenty of it.”
Ian Fleming
From Russia with Love