Friday, June 20, 2008

Grandma Sophie

fried sunfish
and crappies
in smokehouse
on cast iron
wood stove

(jaws of stove spewing red,
skin prickly fire)

pale pink apron
soft breasts under
gingham checked
house dress

(her softness cradled my head while lullabies sung
held destined dreams)

she produced
overflowing platters
of fish with
fresh baked

(warm yeasty aroma of bread from oven, dripped butter,
pushed fish bones down throats)

grandpa rome
sons, grandsons
daughters, granddaughters
waited in

(crisp skinned fried fish, potato chip crunchy fish tails,
mouth watering tender meat)

picnic table
under mammoth
elm tree
we ate

(effervescent lightening bugs illuminate our feast
on sultry summer evening)

1 comment:

Stephen Morse said...

as usual, each stanza is part of a story that holds the energy of moment/the senseme with imagery. Brilliant