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

The Bard's Hall Contest  (13+) DECEMBER is HOLIDAY RUSH: Shape Poetry Prompt! #981150 by SantaBee

The photo above, joyous serendipity, when I threw in baking 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, making me tear up. Thanks Mom!