Poem - "How to Cook Rice"

How to Cook Rice

Wren Greyson

Photo by Rachel Claire, from Pexels

Measuring with my heart
Works better than I ever imagined it could. 
I sift the grains through my fingers, washing
Each individual until it sparkles, calms me
Like the sesame oil scent of him 
Reassures me that I’m doing it right
While he watches and lies that he isn’t.
His face shines from the heat, rests
His chin on my shoulder in the steam-waft zone.
Each time caring for the rice like it could thank him,
Cradling them in flat spoons, fluffing up part way
Even though he doesn’t need to. 
He used to scoop with more precision,
Only what he could eat then. Now, two prepared bowls
One with my correct amount of sesame seeds
And one with his too much ginger, and I know 
He’ll share the rest of his at the end, overfilled.

First published in 2025 by UNC Asheville's Headwaters