Simple Things Give Me Pause
When the milk curdles
in my coffee
I make tea
instead. It’s warm
amber slips
down my throat
like mamma tucking
in my sleeping body.
Pink and blue china
flowers fit
perfectly in my palm,
dance ring-around-the-rosy
in my memory
of forgotten voices
heard only
in dreams, blurry faces
tied
to paper and glue.
For now, only
cookies are missing
in my reminiscent tableau.
In my pantry
flour, sugar, pecans
wait in vain
for absent hands.
*
Prompt via The Wombwell Rainbow
Art by Kerfe Roig
Reblogged this on The Wombwell Rainbow.
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Distance and absent hands… To sigh, and then make cookies.
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I love a cuppa… sweet memories for me as well… loved your story
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Coffee and tea have such different atmospheres…I wish my grandmother’s teacups had not gotten lost during one of my many moves. But I can still taste her pecan pie. (K)
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It’s sad that you lost those teacups. But nice to have the memories. I often make my Mamaw’s pecan cookies. :)
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Cookies would be good too! (K)
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