waste not

my parents’ early secret marriage gouged by the Great Depression

what they’d worked years to accomplish

wiped away as promised positions

disintegrated in industrial collapse

nursing posts unavailable

to married women

everything that could be was re-used, repaired, given new life

as money simply was not

within grasp of hand

raised as i was in their hard-earned

philosophy, i eat everything on my plate

and take home scraps in a ‘doggy bag’

wasting good food was sin-like

so, much of the fried ice cream left on

the restaurant table after our celebration

was painful for me to see, but, thank

the lord, not for my family who still

believe in abundance