kook

While teaching in Spain, I'm reminded of my love through contact with his culture. He's Dutch but living in the U.S.

A Dutch boy in my class,
spelled "cook"
but with two Ks.

"Kook," he wrote
in English class,
employing the
Dutch way.

I couldn’t help but smile then
and think of your cute face.
and noken in de koken and
I almost heard me say:
“It’s cook with a C
not the place where you noken!”

But he was eleven,
and looking at me
with bambi blue eyes
from which I could see
That he wanted a genuine
answer from me.

So I held it all in,
and I wrote with my pen
C-O-O-K on his paper
and then-
I turned from his chair
giddy and grinning
and longing to share it with you.

In Spain, we're an ocean apart.
and though I’m not in Holland now
it’s closer than I've been.
And I cherish small encounters
with your culture while abroad,
cause I feel something familiar
that before I didn’t feel at all.

The End

5 comments about this poem Feed