“The king of herbs is dead!
Long live the king of herbs!”
is the thought that comes to mind
while ripping basil in two
and tossing it over sizzling zucchini
no one is home
no one here to hear a twenty-something
because his parents have yet to return
and so the dishes sit, prepared
with helpings removed for their preparer who,
not waiting, prepares to
enjoy a meal
what is it about fresh herbs that
make you feel like you accomplished something
instead of simply eking out survival?