Accidental Kale

Mistaken for rainbow chard

in a Sunday rush at the market --

sauteed in garlic and sweet onion,

it springs up crinolined

from my spoon as bacon, diced,

approaches a crisp autumnal brown.

Is this how it works?

We plunge along heartless,

our fists crammed

with lettuce, watery tomatoes.

End up gasping

at a table steamed full

of unintended desire.

Like love, we take one bite,

another, stunned by surprise

filling the hollow long within us:

such goodness in error, delight

in what might not have been.

T. Clear © 2005

(originally appeared in Seattle Woman)