Prompt: Grandma’s Kitchen: Focus on a single memory, or describe what you might imagine the typical grandmother’s kitchen to be like (from https://thinkwritten.com/poetry-prompts/)
10. the kitchen of memories
I didn't appreciate it back then
(children never do)
as we waited impatiently
in the tiny nook of a kitchen
for Yia-Yia's soup
to be cooked to perfection.
It's been years now
but I can still taste
the lemon-tinged orzo,
nearly burning my tongue
as I balanced on the rickety stool.
the fridge was plastered
in magnets and memories,
all our years of school pictures
and invitations to weddings anc christenings
of all the people who had loved her,
called her "Yia-Yia" just like we did.
On holidays, the little kitchen
was crammed with the board for rolling phyllo dough
and food enough to feed an army.
the women would crowd themselves in to help
while we watched TV and listened to the men
talk about everything and nothing.
I remember trying to follow her once,
the flurry of cracked eggs and ingredients
barely measured with a shotglass.
She couldn't write it down for me,
but I wish I had tried harder
to do it for her,
because I can try making it,
but it falls apart
because nothing is the same
as when she held us all together.
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