Grandma Low's Doughnuts
In total darkness flesh rests
and at first light rises.
Sky blue eyes search
bibles and cookbooks for direction.
Bless cheeks with pink powder blush.
Punch dough down.
Dress fingers in white flour dust.
Invoke a flame.
She commands all the elements,
motions us to stand and watch
at her tall stove-pot.
We peer over the edge
into galaxies of hot oil.
Planets pop and bob into life.
Aroma undoes us and
time floats hellishly slow.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
