And here’s my other one. This one’s for dverse too.
When she spilt the salt
She always threw
A solemn pinch
Into the devil’s eye,
As if he was there
Hovering at her kind
And virtuous shoulder,
As if there were no wars,
No plagues, famines,
Madmen waving guns
Only her clean, quiet kitchen
Sarah writes poems 
YES. Love this one, too. Throwing spilled salt, as if it could season the world differently. So well done.
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Thank you so much for your prompt and your comments. I do appreciate being read.
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I can picture this one too. An ordinary setting with an extra-ordinary gesture or wish.
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Thank you for taking the time to comment on both these pieces. I do appreciate it.
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I can picture “her.” Can’t say anything stronger than that, can I? Well done.
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Thank you, appreciate you stopping by and commenting.
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I love this. Perfectly simple, and simply perfect.
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Indeed. As if throwing that pinch of salt will make all the sour go away, the evil become good, the bitter become sweet. Very powerful poem this is.
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I love the simplicity of this poem. And, I always always throw that spilled salt over my left shoulder. Can’t hurt!
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I’m glad somebody does! it’s funny how these superstitions still hold us in their grip…
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I think it is partially just tradition. I remember my mother every time I do it!
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As if that place – her sanctuary – had even a spot of evil… Isn’t this a lot like building fences?
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Simple – says it all!
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Thank you. I think the 2 pieces are linked, but I’m trying to work out exactly how.
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This made me grin. On occasion I catch myself doing this. Even at restaurants. Where it only that simple to ward off evil, no?
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I wish I’d thought of salt in the devil’s eye in my (clean) quiet kitchen. That’s great!
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Oh, brilliantly said. Powerful in its restraint.
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Thank you for your comments. I do appreciate them.
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