Every night we would watch
In rapt attention as the coal
sparkled
Like firecrackers under the large pot
We would wait in anticipation
To perceive the scent to emanate
From the smoking pot
Within minutes we could tell
The scent spoke volumes of what dinner would be
Happy were we when the scent was a favorite dish
We would leap like gazelles
Dancing to the rhythm the lid made
Mother’s smoking pot was the evening’s entertainment
For we all sat close by
To wait for our belly’s satisfaction.
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