BLESSING MY SISTER'S KITCHEN






BLESSING MY SISTER’S KITCHEN

What is it that drives us from the fortress
of our self to seek the company and conversation
of other beings who mirror us endlessly
in the strange world in which we live?
            --First Digression,  Unpacking My Library
                        Alberto Manguel

I.

Toasted marshmallow Greek yogurt
with raspberries, orange scones, bacon,
set plates for yellow yokes beside
baked egg bread pudding, mixing

Savory Boursin cheese and spinach
in ramekins. My sister’s life in wetlands
with husband Craig. Table blessings
of unguarded talk, books with surprising

titles, and song. Each other's eyes.
Places set for strangers, nobody holding
or petitioning milder and safer ways to enter
Sunday morning. Snow warnings

II.

have been noted.  My sister and husband
live in a cabin-made home in wetlands
in Maple Valley, outside of Seattle, surrounded
by trees, pond, animals like bear and cougar--

for one's breath-sake--that's a starter.
Before breakfast we watch
Oregon Juncos, California Quail, sparrows
and a Towhee, red and white breasted

kind of robin-like. So many birds
who cannot hear the city, like my sister,
who has access through dark roads
known only by locals. Their old kitchen,

a galley, has been gutted, made new
supported by sturdy hidden rafters.
My sister and her husband
have crossed the Atlantic Ocean

in a small sailing boat. They are sailors
and have known loss and joy sailors know.
They savvy sailor-talk of storms.
They share long marriage, adult children,

grand children--and young as they are

III.

my wife and I consider them elders.
My wife brought vases for kitchen window
flowers. I brought a book of poems
of love, longing, and loss, with illustrations

made to slow one's day. We find ourselves
before the meal discussing the word Supine
which was heard the night before
on Public Broadcasting Service

where the conservative spokesman
spoke about the Republican Congress,
calling them out, supine, suffering from
a learned helplessness. From dictionaries,

both online,  and book form, (a terrific
old library copy discarded and gifted),
we find mental or moral lethargy,
lying on one's back, indolent,

sluggish, mean spirited; indifferent
to one's duty. Facing upward,
I'll add that and be done with it.
Antonyms are not listed online

but they're here, on the page:
Keen, alert, proud, self-respecting.
I recall how Hamlet's mother
called her son keen as his play

unfolded. You are keen, My Lord,
she says. Not so much, as...well,
there's more in the footnotes in your Signet
Shakespeare. I've been called these words,

I say, all but self-respecting--
but we're here to celebrate this kitchen,
the light you bring, and the birds
you feed. This food is getting cold,

and this is table talk.


Love, Jim
Your brother
23-24 February 2019





Photos by Karen Bodeen

























1 comment:

  1. Lovely. So very lovely. Your love warms me through, Jim. I will think of your beautiful words every time I enjoy Vonnie's new kitchen. XO Ann

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