It doesn’t look like it’ll cook
in the silver, handleless pot
The broccoli cracks under the knife
into bite-sized florets,
a vegetation stiff with raw earth minerals 
and the binding energy of the sun itself.
The recipe says to add it last
with fragrant ginger, sweet agave
and, of course, soy sauce of the gluten-free variety.
But the meat’s been cooking for a half hour
and there’s no way the broccoli
will be soft enough by dinner.
You add them to the pot anyway
and stir the best you can through
the unyielding cruciferous.
The heat starts breaking it down,
the sauce you made coats every part
and, like magic, it comes out al dente
just in time, firm but not chewy,
and hungry mouths devour
and call it the best dinner ever.
And the recipe goes back in its little box
that you got from your mother,
ready to help when you need it.