Stinging Nettle Soup: Greens in Winter Food Poem

  //  Food Poetry, Soup Recipes  //   2 Comments

Stinging Nettle Soup | Annelies Zijderveld

Greens in Winter

Stiff edged leaves want

to stick fingers, prick them

if unaware of their nature.


Winter has left us

bereft, for years we knew

what to expect. But now,


farmers throw their hands

out to the fields, then up to

the skies. When precipitation


makes some states quake,

ours is notably barren.

The dustbowl is what came


of December, long remembered

for rain. We ask ourselves if

the Bay area could become L.A.


even as a cloud of smog hovers

where the fingers of fog used

to snake over green hills as cover.


To take a season and shake it up

like a snowglobe is to redistribute

what is known with the unknown,


leaving us to pray for rain for a Fuyu

tree in Anderson valley, to wait and see

if in a year the fruit will blossom and grow.

Stinging Nettle Soup | Annelies Zijderveld Stinging Nettle Soup | Annelies Zijderveld 2014-01-14 18.11.09


Stinging Nettle Spaetzle – Honest-Food

Pasta with Stinging Nettles and Ramps Pesto – Sassy Radish

Stinging Nettle Ravioli Gnocchi – A Hungry Bear Won’t Dance

Nettle and Ricotta Tart – Treehugger

Stinging Nettle Omelette – Nourished Kitchen

2 Responses to “Stinging Nettle Soup: Greens in Winter Food Poem”

  1. Simona

    Your poem is full of beautiful images. Indeed, winter seems to have left us and it is confusing to people and above all plants. Let’s pray for rain for all the creatures.


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