The Egg

By Shibumi Desai

Mumma opens the fridge and peers in.

In seconds, an idea is set.

She emerges with containers, flavours, packets, leftovers,

And an egg.

Fresh veggies,

Last night’s meat,

Spices and herbs,

And some type of cheese –

She reinvents into an eggy treat.

They meet the egg after precise chops,

So many egg-speriments,

With zero flops.

She stands on one leg,

As she makes the egg.

It’s so strange,

But yet so great,

How an ingredient she hates,

She heroes on the plate!

Ideas are never egg-xhausted.

And so, breakfast always has an egg,

Still, it begins each day anew.

By Shibumi Desai