Recipe on the Fly

It is a labor of love.
Step after small step.

The ingredients matter.
Fresh is better, but you can work around that.

At times you follow the recipe.
More often you do not.

You wing it, hoping
forty some odd years have taught you something,

that the mistakes you have made,
count.

About this poem

Pretty much the story of my life. I leap off the cliff, building wings as I go. My signature phrase may be “I’ll figure it out.”.  Mostly, I do.

Oh, or it could be about cooking.

Tom

PS: The picture was take at the Wilson House, in nearby Hebron, NY.