Anabel Caride

Strawberries Without Cream


Today I am only going to eat your kisses:

none of Tuesday’s gray faces.

Your mouth between knife and fork while we eat dinner.


Forbidden to leave the table

before cleaning your plate.


You can have more.


The dinner guest should not forget

to visit the kitchen

to compliment the cook:

she will know how to thank him in her own way.



Translated by Curtis Bauer
“Strawberries Without Cream” is from Tinta en el almanaque (Ink On The Almanac) (Editorial Moreno Mejías, 2008).


You can read and listen to the poem in the original Spanish here.