Pears – A poem

Pears somewhere another woman is cooking pears
globes of pale maize in the pot sprinkled with honey water
and slices of young ginger
I am not the only one
somewhere in Ankara or Lahore or Bangladesh
standing by the stove wondering, Raisins? Hazelnuts?
also she sets the saucepan on a low flame
and watches the moon through her kitchen window sinking to day
and the birds skittering around the empty feeder waiting for her to
come
this woman and I
sisters across pots and oceans and skies
alone
and once believing she was the only lonely one
– Lois Silverstein