We drive through hills, valleys, and plains
Winding up through those narrow streets
It’s our day with family, friends
And much cheer and laughter, a special treat
We munch on peanuts, gulp few drinks
Not wasting our time for any eats
Till it is dark and hunger screams
And then we desperately hunt for place to eat
But it’s too late in this small town
Villagers have an early sleep
No eatery open, no fireplace warm
Nor fast food centers, no motels found
Round and round in circles, somersault,
No chefs, not even in telephone books
We come back home and grapple fruits
And yet couldn’t control our hunger pangs
So, we wash the pans.
In apron, dressed
Cross-legged by fireplace
We decide to cook.
