Dellymari's Blog

It is said you are what you eat—

I’d like to bid farewell

to fifteen pounds,

but oh how bittersweet their memory…

And with that:

The griddle sizzles.

Little water bubbles

spritzed from my fingertips,

hop about, hot, in joyfulness.

It is a Saturday past,

long past—

The sun shining is a 1970’s toss,

between innocence and change.

It is a different brightness,

unscathed by disappointment,

and a thousand types

of death.

My mother’s apron is colorful fruit,

a vine of commitment,

tied decidedly around her beautiful waist,

(expanded and retracted,

seven times giving life).

The butter’s sweetness fills the air,

like lilacs scent a summer’s field.

A table waits with triangle-folded napkins.

Maple’s woody-amber flavor

will drizzle swirls with all the answers.

My father’s seat, at the head of the table,

seems larger than the rest.

He serves and is served.

Respect—

There is buckwheat,

vanilla,

eggs and milk,