in the kitchen of our growing up
saffron seeped into white rosary beads
sauterne blistered sweetness to steam
we chopped fresh parsley with sage
sprigs of herbs I’d picked for her,
useful at last, springing their
pungent blessings about her hands
milking the mezzaluna
in the kitchen of our growing up
we grated carrots and nerves
sliced dried sausage and self-esteem
never allowed the knives to cross
we sang our favourite hymns
to the flash of dishcloths and blue tea towels
leaned against the Everhot
to hear the world through the ABC news
in the kitchen of our growing up
fresh milk came in the dented billy
we pitched ourselves against each other
one scooped froth, the other the skin
all of us sneaking the buttery top
sometimes love like sponges rose
vanilla scented thick cream spread
with her soft skin spatula arms
Josephine Clarke (Western Australia)
First published in Creatrix
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