Paint
peeling, wood splitting,
flies
swarming her trailer, sweltering heat
in
that clay and lime town—
but,
oh! the tart and bubbling rhubarb crisp,
the
spicy-sweet hot mustard,
the
savory scent
of
the best, the best, fried chicken
any
of us had ever eaten.
Poor—and
rich—
all
the difference
in
the crinkle-cut corner
of
her laugh-rippled eyes.
©
2016 Jennifer Wagner
For
dVerse Poetics
22 comments:
Oh I do love that scent, the chicken and that rhubarb crisp, maybe sometimes rich or poor but the love you pour in your cooking that makes the difference.
I would love to try that best fried chicken, yummy. And I really like how you described her, with laugh-rippled eyes.
Thanks for joining us Jennifer and wishing you a happy week.
This took me back to summer barbeques at my Grandma Trini's house in Los Angeles. Esp loved:
"in the crinkle-cut corner
of her laugh-rippled eyes."
This was a sweet and evocative piece - thanks, Mosk
Ah! Rhubarb - one of the great scents and taste of this world! Love this poem :)
Perfect for this time of year.
What wonderful memories Jennifer. What would we do without grandmothers and their cooking. I'm wanting some rhubarb right now. I would love to grow it but I understand it really can take over the garden. So glad you joined us.
"...the crinkle-cut corner
of her laugh-rippled eyes."
Perfect! Great poem.
So descriptive I could smell the food.
The images leap off the page and the scents are vividly written.
A truly beautiful reminiscence expressed with such love and tenderness. That last stanza left a lump in my throat. Another evocative - very special - family centric piece (at which your gift for capturing that magic is simply wonderful).
the tart and bubbling rhubarb crisp,
the spicy-sweet hot mustard,
the savory scent
of the best, the best, fried chicken
Oooh this is just yum!! :D
I feel like I'm there! I can just see her smiling right now - great poem :)
I so love and agree with the last verse. Touched my heart, this.
Laugh-rippled eyes! This poem is rich in sound and scent, both. A pleasure to read!
This perfectly represents how and why food and the memories of our loved ones go so closely hand-in-hand :-)
Beautiful. Laugh rippled eyes...and it is true, everyone's grandmother makes the best fried chicken. I know mine made the best.
I love those smile lines around her eyes. She sounds well content.
" in the crinkle-cut corner
of her laugh-rippled eyes"
Love this, but you had me at the rhubarb crisp!
I know I've read this before and loved it as I recognized it right away - must have been unable to post response for one reason or another at the time. I consider this a perfect poem - heart felt and it puts me right there.
Love this Jen--my grandmother was a small Russian woman with crinkly blue eyes and a kitchen of love--this made me think of her today!
What a delicious, vividly detailed, and sensitive poem!
oh dang. now I want some chicken. and to talk to my grandma, may she rest in peace ~
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