Monday, May 2, 2011

M/bake until golden

In the kitchen while
cooking, baking, creating,
I still hear her voice clearly,
gently instructing on technique,
the how to's of
cutting fat into flour for biscuits
kneading springy bread
cookie dough stiff not sticky,
mix muffin batter until barely combined,
her hands, buffed oval nails
eerily superimposed over
my small eager fingers,
quietly humming while
layering a crock pot with dinner
ingredients, stirring a simmering sauce
setting the table
dishes napkins silverware condiments
positioned 'just so', she assured little me,
the condensation beading on a
meal-time pitcher of
ice and water, trickling down the
exterior glass like tears,
cinnamon and yeast the scents of
morning and mourning.


  1. her essence will remain
    somedays it's very strong and other times it's subtle but always there. I know that feeling.

    you expressed it very well

    this is a beautiful piece full of brilliant imagery
    thank you for sharing

    and thank you for your visit and comment

  2. I have these same feelings about my grandmother, who died in December at age 99. She taught me most of my life's most significant lessons... and most of the little ones too. Your writing is clear, concise, and evocative. Nicely done.

  3. awesome reflections, bless you and your family.

    I have the closest ties with my own grandma.

  4. i miss those sweet time "baking the cake together" with my mum,,
    nice piece!


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