Sunday, June
Trying to give, I fail too often.
But this day we prepare for you
food that your beloved often cooked,
made with the ingredients of 19,000
nights and promises of more to come.
These potatoes. That beef, the fruit.
Simple, and yet so difficult to reproduce.
Even the recipe is incomplete. “Some
mayonnaise,” it says, then “mustard,”
but not whether dry or prepared, and
the amount is unclear. Yet the results
transport you to stronger days, to
the clear-eyed self and limitless
possibilities, meals on the table
at five o’clock, the satisfaction of work
well done, knowing that you have soared
above your father’s imprecations
but never beyond love’s touch, her
sleepy murmurs, morning coffee,
burnished histories and late cigarettes,
the tulips on the soil you’ll soon share.
“Sunday, June” first appeared in the print journal Nourish in March 2018.
I’m in love, strong and heart warming.
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Thank you. I’m so pleased you like it.
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A dear sentiment flowing through your words.
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Thank you. Oh, those memories!
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So dear.
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A tender gift you created – and a beautiful poem. 19,000 nights…?? 50+ years together??
Bet she varied her seasonings from time to time. Recipes are guidelines, not rules … prior generations made note of ingredients with the understanding that tastes, thus quantities, could vary from time to time. A written recipe is for sharing – and improvising!
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Thanks, Jazz. Yep, 50+years. We were going to duplicate this meal for him at Christmas, but he took ill and alas, it never happened.
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Sad ending … but a wonderful idea.
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A meal from my teen years…
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That last line! What a poignantly beautiful poem and tribute, Bob!
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Thank you, Lynne. I hope you’re settled in now.
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Hah! Absolutely love our new place – just have to find time to be there! Presently in Inuvik, NT visiting my son and then venturing south for a couple of months in Mexico and hopefully get some writing done. Loved your Chapbook Confession, Bob, and have finally begun one too. Thanks for checking in on me!
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Sounds like you’re busy! Glad you’re confessing, too!
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Love and tradition simmered as one. Wonderful, Bob.
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Thanks, Ken. I was able to duplicate this particular meal for my dad, but others weren’t so successful.
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Simplicity made beautiful
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Thanks very much.
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Reblogged this on Cynthia Hilston – Author & Blogger and commented:
I love this.
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Thanks for reblogging, Cyndi! Much appreciated.
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Beautiful and tender these food memories and traditions.
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We try to keep some of them going…
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beautiful! I resonate with these images…
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Thank you, Nancie!
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You write so movingly of your parents, Bob, yet with characteristic restraint, always letting the details carry the emotional force. Beautifully done.
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Thanks, Cate. Life is in the details!
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Those recipes will get you every time. (K)
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They certainly do! Sometimes all I need is a hint. Other times, nothing helps!
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So many lines resonate, but my favorite might be “burnished histories and late cigarette…” That’s divine. Well done, sir.
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In the end, the burnished histories remain…
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Indeed.
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