In the Kitchen

Mama used to go to the center and
stomp her left foot down hard 
on that old maple wood. 
Then close her eyes and tighten her
jaws and clap her hands as she would
Look up and say: 

Thank you!

Thank you!

Thank you!

The smell of butter biscuits, bacon and eggs
always drew me in before she could call
us in to eat. 
I always wondered who she was talkin' to
being that she was in there alone.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2023

Poem

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