An Ode to the Camembert

Unctuous creamy
heaven
with a slight note
of sourness;
And to Marie Harel,
creator or not,
she is
the appointed saint,
goddess
of fresh
whole-milk
curdled and deposited
in little wooden boxes.

Un-pasteurized
elasticity
from the farm
and rolling
green hills
of the Pays d’Auge.

The udders
of grazing cows
flopping about
underneath them;
those silent
female
mastodon saints
of olden
forgotten
silent
times
carrying their heavy bags
silently waiting
to be freed
of their milk,
mas
ticating away.

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