On New Year’s Day (or is it Eve?):
you must make black-eyed peas for luck,
more money and love and
we forgot to cook them in the end,
stopping after a quick soak,
wet beans sticking and sitting together, a silver pot on top of a stove—
half-cooked for half-luck.
We fall asleep before midnight, and wake
in a new year—
hungry.
Soph lives in the mountains, where she writes whenever she can. In between, she can be found running with her huskies and partner, reading too many books at once, and experimenting with new recipes. Her recent work can be found or is forthcoming in Jellyfish Review, WOW-Women on Writing, where she placed 3rd in the Q3 2021 Essay Contest, Sledgehammer, Anti-Heroin Chic, Entropy Magazine, and Phoebe Journal. Her favorite life lessons often come from queer cartoons or Uncle Iroh. One day, she hopes to run her own tea shop.
