Awakened

Saturday night
and I set my oven
to 500 degrees,
and I let it heat
for half an hour.
Outside, the sky is darkening.
Remove one young chicken from the fridge,
sprinkle kosher salt
and ground black pepper
on its skin.
In its cavity,
I have stuffed it with the ends and pieces
of Amish bacon
and freshly torn sage,
what the Mormon’s called
"The death herb"
because it grew ‘round their tombs,
in Utah
I am told.
Ten minutes at this heat,
then open the oven door
and reduce the temp to 350,
a gentle glide
for 40 or so minutes.
In another 15
I will split and season a spaghetti squash,
along with six potatoes for baking.
Oil and kosher salt as always.
The salad tonight consists of iceberg lettuce,
leaves of basil,
lemon, yellow tail chardonnay,
and cilantro
tossed with tomatoes that are out of season
and have to be coaxed to ripeness,
and provolone cheese.
Ham gravy
in a pinch
on the stove top
in under 15 minutes,
I haven’t figured out dessert nor bread,
but this is a form of love.
My kitchen is warm and alive
and has that familiar early winter glow
and the robust smells of roasted poulet
and squash seeds.
Breathe.
I am awakened.