(Awarded Honourable Mention, Canadian Authors Association National Capital Region, National Writing Contest, Poetry Category. 2016.)
Every time
I lightly flour the countertop
Roll
Or drop dough by teaspoons-full
Following exactly the recipe
My mother copied faithfully from
Her mother
I feel the energy flow
Mother
Grandmother
Great-Grandmother
Connecting us
Sure as string on mittens.
And I feel my hands, supple and sticky
Guided by ghosts of hands
Some decorated with thin gold bands and tiny diamond chips
Some gnarled with swollen knuckles
Blunted by too much caring for and not enough of anything else
And yet for all that,
Gentle
As they direct me in this motherly work.
Women
For millennia
Have transformed
Butter
Eggs
Sugar
Into memories for their children,
Who insist
With shining eyes
These are recreated in exactly the same way
Year upon year
From childhood on
Until
With gentle guidance
They are handed down.
