Bring the potatoes to a boil, now the eggs –
tell them they best not crack. Salt the water
surrounding both. Reserve
a cup when the potatoes are done, barely
fork-tender. Slip them all
from their respective skins, hard and soft.
Next, the sausage: cut to rounds while the
potatoes cool. Skillet-simmer. Stir
the water into the sour cream, retrieve
garlic and paprika and pepper. Wonder:
did my father ever eat this?
Begin the layers, oiled baking dish. Potato,
pepper, garlic. Slice the eggs, yellow eyes
of varying size & intersperse kielbasa coins.
Pour sour cream over; choose to add cheese
now, despite consulted recipes. Repeat. 
Top with a scant layer of golden-carb slices
and last of the thinned tartness.
Wonder, again: did my grandmother
ever eat this? Dust with paprika
procured from the homeland. Bake.
   (eat the remaining sausage with
   some leftover dilly kraut.
   Listen
   when this sings a need for Akevit up in the brain.
   Do a shot
   of ‘liquid rye bread’ just before the timer stops) 
Ten minutes more: the cream is still too
titanium-white. Marvel at these scents
from a home you didn’t know you needed to know.
Mentally reassert your commitment
to feeding these roots, watching them grow.