Friday, July 1, 2016

Hey, Mom! What's for Dinner?

I rarely see your ghost in the kitchen.
I see her, fists squeezing the steering wheel,
shoulders hunched over it--
daunted by stove even more than by road,
driven by duty, drawn by Suffering Virgin's example,
braving icy back roads to the uttermost edge of the county,
where hotdogs free of nitrites were sold. 

(Family Secrets Friday)

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