Poached Egg for Two - Anaise D'Aquila

Poached Eggs for Two - Anaise D'Aquila (Omaha, Nebraska)

My mother drops an egg and, with a slotted

spoon long enough to reach the bottom of the pot, stirs

gently, spiraling the water

which has been salted generously

and splashed with white wine vinegar,

so that the egg will land in a whirlwind

of tangy poaching liquid, catching

the bleak fragmentation of the eggshell

while she dips into the savory nectar, the acid

causing the glair white of the egg

to seize up, the watery bits

stringing out into lacy blooms,

until the egg whites resembles

an aurelia aurita, surrounded

by boiling seawater, its tendrils splaying out

like the sun, and before you know it, the white

of the egg resembles a silky cream, not unlike dew

drops, and the yolk, when broken, spills like

gold coins from a pouch, so much so, that

my mother serves it on toast, speckled

all tawny and deep umber from the broiler,

to lap up all the spilt goodness, and

tomatoes, fruit of toil and earth —

and seeds like spider eggs

or like little jewels, you decide.