Memories
Where dragonflies and soup meet.
Dragonflies are summer creatures
that skimmed our pool
and made us nervous.
Can they really sew your mouth shut?
Or was that just my sisters' taunting me?
Soups were not from summer,
but memories don't mark seasons.
Clam chowder, oyster stew, and split pea soup all conspired
to make me love my mom
especially at lunch time.
SoCal in the summer or winter:
the stuff of dreams.
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Memories
Where dragonflies and soup meet.
Dragonflies are summer creatures
that skimmed our pool
and made us nervous.
Can they really sew your mouth shut?
Or was that just my sisters' taunting me?
Soups were not from summer,
but memories don't mark seasons.
Clam chowder, oyster stew, and split pea soup all conspired
to make me love my mom
especially at lunch time.
SoCal in the summer or winter:
the stuff of dreams.
The aroma of Grandma's suit permeated even the stairwells of that old apartment building. As we bounded up the stairs, we couldn't wait to get our quick squeeze from Grandma and our enormous cups of Grandma's specialty soup. We didn't even know all the ingredients, and we didn't care. We just knew that it tasted really good!
Edit for that first sentence:
The aroma of Grandma's soup...
Sorry, I was typing too fast, I guess :)
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