Joy Rising


She made sponge cake

Dough rising

Like joy in the afternoon

With smells of flour, eggs, sugar

Lemons, oranges

Apple cake always with cinnamon

Honey, raisins, nuts, and vanilla.

And luscious potato kugel

With onions chopped so fine they were invisible.

There was always food for strangers or dogs

I would bring home.

Travels of a teenage soul

A college student with empathy

For the lost and lonely.

If we could have stayed

Little girl and wiser Mother

It might have been enough

To keep us whole, connected.

Joined at the hip was never to be

Not for us…

Though on cold wintry days

With snow weighing down limbs

Before sunrise

I still open doors on cupboards

Gently, ever so gently.

Whispering through the kitchen

With slippers covering my bare feet

Remembering joy rising

Upside down on Coca Cola bottles

On brilliant, lazy Arizona afternoons.

All rights reserved.  ©2009 by Sara Fryd

*On Blog Talk Radio March 25, 2010


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