These poems make me hungry

After listening to Garrison Keiller read Jane Hirshfield’s In A Kitchen Where Mushrooms Were Washed, I thought about how much I love poems that call to my stomach.  Another one by Hirshfield is My Sandwich. And then there’s This is just to say by William Carlos Williams. Anyone here have favorites?

English: In "Come, Thief," Jane Hirs...
In “Come, Thief,” Jane Hirshfield reflects on the landmarks of a life, including the fact that she found true love at age 49. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

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