Image of my first apron, sewn in home economics class, 1967.
poem submitted to “2026-03-15 Write a Beautiful Shadorma” poetry contest, Constance La France, sponsor, March 15, 2026
A cook never goes into the kitchen without wearing her apron. (quote by my Mother) scent of hearth stitched in morning light apron’s cloth~ sewn with pride fabric keeps the memories~ threads hold dreams of home sturdy cloth worn by gentle hands drapes the waist soft as lace~ each fold a prayerful whisper faith sewn into seams daily grace inside apron’s seams hands knead hope truth rises kitchen hearth, gentle chapel apron lifts the soul a related memoir vignette can be read at: poetrysoup.com/short_stories/talking_aprons_13664
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