Soba.
Buckwheat slither,
okra neat, inhaled with
her throatwardly chopsticked gesture.
Soba.
Udon.
Under a blue-
tiled roof, stomp the dough like
wine grapes to the west. Sip, chew, gone.
Udon.
Sōmen.
Sunning on ice.
Yellow, matcha green, or
in the buff. So then: skinny dip?
Sōmen.
Rāmen.
Wordless but not
silent, prayerful slurping
in an itadaki-amen.
Rāmen.
(These are cinquains: poems in lines of 2, 4, 6, 8, and 2 syllables. Words and photos by Sarah Hinlicky Wilson, except for the ramen photo by Andrew L. Wilson.)