An empty calzone-it’s ingredient free-
and one and one is apparently three.
The tap water washes the soot all away,
forgetting that kittens can continue to play.

Roots spread out sideways instead of down
and warblers and magpies,they don’t make a sound.
No cheeps, or wee-zee-zees, or wenk-wenk-wenks either.
No noises from outside, we all take a breather.

Now, the yeast in dough mix is bubbling to rise,
and a circumspect pumpkin hides out in the skies.
Wearing a mask and velveteen cape,
its serpentine movements provide an escape.

While the red sauce is rolling, doubled and boiled,
with smoked mozzarella-its well-olive oiled.
The calzone sits there empty, ready to eat,
soaking up smells from the painted concrete.

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