Mother’s Confection

Mother's Confection (Villanelle)

Rubber zucchini would not do from that supermarket zoo;
We've got the blues.
Smudged recipe card in her handwriting greets on the floured counter.

When that basket of ingredients grew, I knew
A manufactured sleeve of black cookies isn’t near as true.
Rubber zucchini would not do from that supermarket zoo.

Tablespoons of cinnamon, allspice, baking powders too,
There I stood grating and grinding.
Smudged recipe card in her greets on the floured counter.

I buttered and smeared the pan, how she taught me true.
With a proper fire from a faithful oven, knew
Rubber zucchini would not do from that supermarket zoo.

A hour later, marvel arose in aromatic perfection,
overdue. This was her favorite selection.
Smudged recipe card in her handwriting greets on the floured counter.

In thick divides, we each plate a slice, rejoice and chew,
She got it right. Use fresh ingredients the rule.
Rubber zucchini would not do from that supermarket zoo.
Smudged recipe card in her handwriting greets on the floured counter.


5.31.24
19 lines, Villanelle, for:

FORUM

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The photo above was joyous serendipity when I threw in a powder before a double take, several years ago, while following her bread recipe.

And I’m messy with flour — on shirt, counter, floor, sink, stove top. Transference is real, people.

Sometimes, get a sense of her whenever I’m creative, write this, and tear up. Thanks Mom!