Gretchen Tessmer
Lunch Date
she walks into his cave
carrying
a lantern of moonlight
a plaid knapsack
two ham-and-mustard sandwiches
in a crinkly paper bag
and some cyan and magenta-colored mud
clinging to her space boots
“how goes it?” she asks
of the King Beneath Mountains
“it goes,” he replies, in the same spot she left him
(ages and ages and ages ago)
his eyes peeled on black water
his fingers furiously filling his ledger
with notes
this underground river contains
an impressive collection
of secrets, faces, places, names
but the water reflects
too many memories in too few minutes
it rushes, it roars
“blink at your peril!” he warned her once
when she stopped to watch
a few luminescent fish
with fluorescent tail fins
stuck in a shallow pool
oh, she laughed at his gravity
and grave manner
said she’d be back
once she visited the stars
dotting the deep black
and here she is
keeping promises
“did you miss me?” she wonders, all
cheeky smiles and winsome tones tonight
but he sighs and suffers
no such thing as love
to distract him
those tired eyes are so stubborn
even as a reluctant, “yes”
drips from his lips
in time with droplets
slouching off cavern stalactites
pleased with his answer
she rummages in her knapsack
granting him one of those
ham-and-mustard sandwiches
as was their custom
(once-upon-another-time)
as they munch through a picnic lunch
she smirks
at the state of him
all mountain roots and mud-splashed mire
the murky brown
and rust-colored, regular kind
with affection, she reaches out
brushing flakes of
grey lichen from his cheek
scratching green moss
from the underside of his chin
her fingers leaving behind
bread crumbs and stardust
_______________
Gretchen Tessmer is a writer/attorney based in the U.S./Canadian borderlands. She writes both poetry and short fiction, with work appearing in Nature, Strange Horizons, and F&SF, among other venues.
Author’s Backstory: This poem waltzed into my head one writing session, much as the girl in the poem waltzes into that cave. Both were wearing space boots. Concept-wise, there’s a lot of Matthew 6:26-34 in it (which isn’t surprising – it’s one of my favorite sets of verses). Oh, the cares of the world (secrets, faces, places, names) and how they mire us in mud and moss. It’s easy to get stuck. Harder to get unstuck, but it helps when you have someone to pull you out. Or at least share in an impromptu picnic lunch.
Editor’s Comments and Image Credit: In her poem, Gretchen’s line, “carrying/a lantern of moonlight,” reminds me of that lovely, six-line poem, “Heat Lightning” by Ted Kooser (https://www.versedaily.org/2005/heatlightning.shtml).
Also, for your convenience, I’ve included the gospel excerpt Matthew 6:24-34:
24 No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon.
25 Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment?
26 Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?
27 Which of you by taking thought can add one cubit unto his stature?
28 And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin:
29 And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.
30 Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which today is, and tomorrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith?
31 Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed?
32 (For after all these things do the Gentiles seek:) for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things.
33 But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.
34 Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.
As input to Wixel: The image generated from “she walks into his cave carrying a lantern of moonlight, wearing a plaid knapsack and space boots” was further processed in Photos (on a Mac). (A Reverse Image search produced no suspicious connections; it focused on the backpack!)