Carrot Soup

• Jack Jeffries, Grade 10
• Poetry
• 2014

In my sultry bowl of carrots and spice
I can see little more than a few
Hands conducting their carrot soup heist
Chatting amongst the steam of their brew.

With tender hands they grasp their spoons
Hands that reach, to love, to fight
With tentative stirs the heat is exhumed
In the same way their voices ignite

Then a spoon drops back against my rim
And the voices are ablaze
A face darkens, eyes fiery and grim
Challenging back through a steamy haze

And then the world is upside-down
And I splatter across the floor
A face lands amongst me, and amongst the bustle and the sound
I wonder who deserves to be down here more