To Cilantro

You love to startle me,

turning up in unexpected places.

You are ever present in salsa,

beneath the mango and papaya

clinging to chopped tomatoes.

In my soup your tiny green leaves

float under the sliced potatoes

spoiling my lunch. I find you in my salad,

camouflaged, hiding among the mint leaves.

Yesterday I found you in Avocado dip.

And then, and this time you did go too far,

your pungent thick odor met me at the door

before dinner. You spent the entire afternoon

alone in the kitchen with my wife.

You appear so innocent, with your tiny thin stem

and pretty green leaves. But you do not fool me.

I have found you out!

You are relentless.