There are two kinds of leftovers in my fridge
The ones that are eaten as they are,
or recycled in some other form,
but consumed, nonetheless.
They also definitely outnumber the other kind,
the few pitiful morsels that meet their end
in the kitchen bin, while I feel guilty
about wasting food,
the rice which isn't enough to give away
the sabzi that my helper didn't enjoy,
and I have had my fill of, (and the SRE is away),
and the crusts that even the crows won't eat
(and how many breadcrumbs can I use anyway?)
the coriander leaves which turned into a soggy mess
and the three French beans which got left behind in the vegetable tray
and the tablespoon of baked beans, dried up and sad
(I never imagined that I could throw away a single baked bean
I loved them as a child, but now, the tin that was opened
for an urgent quick meal, contents transferred to a glass bowl,
those remaining contents
no longer hold any appeal)
more than guilt, the joy of an uncluttered fridge.
And I think of all the weight I put on
because of not wanting to waste food,
I am a monument to that childhood training.
I will still try not to feed the garbage bin
with edible food, but I will not die of guilt when I do!