Poem by Brian Ennion

A Bowl of Broth

Folk sneer at broth
The opaque oiliness of its slick surface
Floating above a watery complexion
Leaves only faint flavour lingering
In the fluid
As it gurgles and scalds
Gushing down one’s throat
A foodstuff for the poor they say

Those of more affluence favour soup
With its pungent punches of flavour
Its smug assault on associative memory
In a blizzard of colours, smells and sloshing sounds
Yet consider the humility of broth
In the faintness of its taste
Preserving a memory of something
No longer there

Brian Ennion is a poet from Liverpool in the United Kingdom. He is a History graduate and a keen runner. ​

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