today, I choose chard
for bitter earthiness,
sorrel,  amaranth,
& dandelion

offerings for dinner
I would have foraged
if we lived in caves

but, because we do not
my 2 children
will push their plates away

reach for safer choices
of peas & beans,
white rice;
the tastelessness

of what is expected


***Late spring/early summer in New York is traumatic for my kids, as I grow (or find) every dark, leafy green (and some purple) imaginable here, and then expect them to at least taste them in salads.  Every year I torment them with kale, collards, orach (aka amaranth), as well as the more easily recognizable spinach and chard.

About Susan L Daniels

I am a firm believer that politics are personal, that faith is expressed through action, and that life is something that must be loved and lived authentically--or why bother with any of it?
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16 Responses to greens

  1. doncarroll says:

    makes sense as to the food selections. i can see it from a literary sense in that if we don’t read the good stuff, then we become like zombies. what i eat and what i read are two different scenarios…*L* always looking to see what might be in a piece. pretty cool piece.

  2. Rhonda says:

    Ah Ha! Where did our children learn to FEAR green food???? Hmmmm, not from me and certainly not from you. What is it do you suppose? This ‘natural’ fear of the unknown green.

  3. nelle says:

    Love spinach, love shard, love kale, but put artichoke hears in front of me, and… stand back, me consuming them = the foraging equivalent of rapid oxidation.

  4. Mr. Walker says:

    I so identified with this. We went for a picnic yesterday and stopped at Whole Foods to pick up food to eat. My wife and I chose healthy foods, while our two boys did not. Well said!


  5. Jeremy Nathan Marks says:

    You know, there is hope for their tastebuds. When I was young I used to hate eating certain greens (no I’m working on becoming a full veggie). I learned to love greens.

    This is a bit disgusting (perhaps) but I must confess it. My folks made me eat broccoli and rather than swallow it, I’d “store it” in the side of my mouth for hours. Who knows why. . . but it made sense to me then.

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