When late fall begins to nip and prick,
those tiny fat beads and the bountiful broth’s bouquet
send shockwaves through every kind of sense and signals immediate and sustaining remedy is on its way.

To gulp silk and to actually be encouraged by the host to savagely slurp, is the ultimate immunization from the intimidating and impending chill,
while steam forged in the elixir of star anise, cinnamon, a fish’s sauce, and ox tail caresses, soothes, and thaws the nasal.

At this cozy corner shop on 7th and Museum, I squint through fogged windows
at the booted, the gloved, and the scarved scurrying and hurrying 
their chilled limbs
to any kind of warmth with a name.

I pity them,
for,
the steeped symphony of sinew and sirloin, cebolla, cilantro, and searing Huy Fong Sriracha
facing both hers and my frigidness
is clearly, unlike theirs, guaranteed sumptuous triumphs.
Phở is Old Man Winter’s mortal nemesis. (One Piece – Wano Country:  Opening Curtains, Closing Curtains Theme)

From the Soul,