Kitchen Lesson
The best pie crusts are made on clear, crisp snow days
when a winter sun shines white through the windows
They require much dusting of everything with flour
(don’t worry if it gets on the floor)
then some kneading and rolling and deft folding and unfolding
(give your baby brother a dollop of dough to hold)
Now, watch how to crimp the edges
Join the knuckles of both hands as your mother,
who pleats the dough into art,
But if you are not by birth her daughter,
and your hands are squat, your fingers too fat to fit,
when it’s your turn to try, use a fork dipped in ice water
and, like silly birds’ stamping their feet on the snow-covered railing,
score the dough, make your mark, you are no less
3 thoughts on "Kitchen Lesson"
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I love your ending. It’s a surprise and keeps the poem from being a cliche.
Love it. My mom’s always looked like pointed sunflowes.
Love it. My mom’s always looked like pointed sunflowers.