Ode to Olive Oil - Joseph Hart (Shields Mcllwaine Award WINNER)

Viscous lubricant of body, soul,

linguini and fingertips,

the half-bitter fully pummeled fruit

of golden old ladies, dripping

onto my tongue, into my pan, swirling

in my sauce, smudging the stone

counter and a neighboring glass.

Golden liquid gold in

grandma’s tins, plastics, cased

in metal handheld

jugs and glass bottles worthy

of blessing a child and the sickly

leaves of thirteen mandarin trees.

What stone pressed your mighty

shell urging the chartreuse

and amber oils to pour

into the rustic basin?

Your coat on the spiky asparagus,

salty fish and hand-

sown lemons—

Staple of my grandma’s table, pan

and kitchen; thank you

for your service to flavor and to focaccia

glistening

under the wilting Messina sun.