Little Miss Dropped-Off-Soup — Without Asking First

Lyrics

[Intro]

[Verse 1]
You, pale blue Tupperware, 
filled with chicken noodle from my stove on Elm Street, 
carrots diced small, celery in thin crescents, 
a pinch of nutmeg hidden like a grandmother's secret, 
November 14th, 2023, the pot simmering since noon.

[Chorus]
I set you on Sarah's porch at 2:05 PM, 
next to the terracotta pot with the drooping fern, 
the welcome mat frayed at the edges, 
steam still rising from your lid, 
carrying thyme and garlic into the chilly air.

[Verse 2]
No knock, no wait for her fevered steps, 
just you there, warm against the wood, 
holding four servings for her quiet recovery, 
the broth golden, noodles soft from the long cook.

[Bridge]

Text sent at 2:17, fingers on the screen: 
"Soup on the porch, no need to thank me, 
I made too much after the market run."
You, my extension of care, unspoken.

[Verse 3]
Sarah, with her flu since Sunday, 
will find you when she stirs, 
lift your lid in the dim kitchen light, 
spoon the warmth I measured for her alone.

[Outro]
You, Tupperware, bridge across the silence, 
the gift that asks for nothing back.