How to talk to strangers (and turn them into friends)

LEFTOVERS

More food in a doggy bag for each meal I can’t finish,

In the company of people I’ve only ever met on Zoom.

They had travelled half the miles of the globe to attend

Meetings at mealtimes for half the days of the week

As strangers in a dining room. Untangling ourselves

Over salmon mousse, soup of the day, farmhouse pate

And stuffed mushrooms, we bonded over grilled steak

And chicken supreme, and explored possibilities

Over pumpkin risotto and venison Scotch eggs

As we passed the salt. At home, the tin foil packages

Multiplied unidentified on the shelves in my fridge,

So that every snack was a voyage of discovery.

I have no shame in taking what I’ve paid for

And would like to eat again; it’s a welcome reminder

Of a well-done meal and the women who were here,

If only by means of the belly pork slice and beef croquette

That I’ve re-eaten for breakfast now they’ve gone.

Sometimes I open a silver foil package to find

That I’ve forgotten which restaurant it came from,

And sometimes I share it with dogs.