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…On Poetry and Fiction

Just “One Word” Away ("Ambrosia")

written by: Phyllis P. Colucci

@FictionTarot

 

One word becomes one idea, becomes one sentence, becomes one poem, becomes one story. It must start from just “one word”. Today my one word is “Ambrosia”.

 

AMBROSIA

Never did I think “Ambrosia” would become my friend and savior today. I’ve always heard how special it was. Ambrosia was considered the food of the Greek gods. It represented longevity and/or immortality for anyone who consumed it. Today, I made it for the first time and I brought it over to my neighbor’s home. The irony here is that this food of longevity and/or immortality was my spur-of-the-moment choice to prepare and take over to a friend’s house during his time of loss and mourning. “Ambrosia” looked so beautiful today, like a princess waiting for her prince. “Ambrosia” suddenly took on a delightful feminine persona, which captured my heart. She was as stunning as she was delectable - and I created her. She smelled like mandarin oranges and pineapple, with a hint of coconut. I bathed her in whipped topping and magically spun her around, then garnished her with maraschino cherries. She looked up at me from the fancy flowered ceramic bowl that was her home, and simply smiled through the waves of whipped topping and marshmallow bits that majestically surrounded her. I smiled back proudly, lifted her gently, then carried her over to my grieving friend and neighbor.

 

AMBROSIA

A guest unknown to me
greeted me at the door and welcomed me in
I saw my dear friend,
sitting in a corner with his two children
He grieved for the loss of a young wife
“They” grieved for the loss of a wonderful Mom
I grieved for the loss of a special friend

I walked past them and nodded quietly
He acknowledged me with a sullen smile
His children remained silent in his lap
I headed toward the kitchen
and placed “Ambrosia” in an empty spot,
high upon the top shelf of his refrigerator

I felt like a stranger in his home – in her home
…Walking in “their” kitchen
…Opening “their” refrigerator door
…Just like his deceased wife, and my best friend, would do
This was still her home
She was still his wife and his children’s Mom
She was still my good friend and neighbor
She was gone, but her spirit lived here…

He soon joined me in the kitchen,
but did not utter one word
Our eyes met and I felt his pain
Our eyes met and he felt my friendship
He placed his hand upon my shoulder
while the tears rolled down his cheeks
I removed the silk handkerchief from his chest pocket
and placed it in his hand, as he dried his eyes

The dining room was bustling
with loud conversation and faint laughter
It was time for “Ambrosia” to make her appearance
I removed her from the refrigerator
and placed her on the table in front of him
He grabbed a spoon
and gently lifted the essence of Ambrosia
to his quivering lips

He smiled and winked at me through his tears
as I kissed his cheek
I carried “Ambrosia” to the dining room
and set her down on the long mahogany table
for all the family and guests to see
There she sat for all to admire, enjoy and consume
Today “Ambrosia” became a friend
Today “Ambrosia” became a Savior
- - For me, for them, and for my grieving neighbor

 

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
"Ambrosia", the food of Greek Gods, which represented longevity and/or immortality, ironically brought comfort to those in mourning... So a simple gesture can sometimes turn into the greatest gift.

Phyllis P. Colucci

Phyllis P. Colucci

I am a freelance / indie writer (fiction, poetry, blog), residing in Brooklyn, New York.
I retired from a Supervisory/Admin position with a Federal Law Enforcement agency in NYC, a few years back.
Presently, I am pursuing my passion for writing, and most of my writing has that New York edge.
Phyllis P. Colucci
Series Navigation<< …On Poetry and Fiction Just “One Word” Away (“Addiction”)
This publication is part 17 of 17 in the series Just One Word Away
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