A SMEAR provides evidence that a POUND of butter had sat on the counter, softening. There are a couple of TOUGH-to-get-out stains on a kitchen towel. And there are gaps on the shelves where the cookbooks sit, indicators of researching and decision-making, plans laid and abandoned, then new plans made and followed. Finding things in the refrigerator is as much about TOUCH as it is about sight, as it is filled to bursting. This is the glorious holiday season – when we show our love by cooking all the favorites, pull out new recipes to delight and tempt. Joyous. Merry. Happy.

Georg’ann

My grandmother’s books line the bottom SHELF.
Worn paperbacks from the 50s and 60s
Nurse romance novels, one after another.
Hilarious descriptions and cover art.
The lone child’s book, A Playmate for Peter.
And that 1st lesbian pulp fiction, Twilight Girl.

I notice them now as I shift things,
making room for holiday tchotchkes.

A BATCH of her cream cheese cookies
sitting on the table, delicate stars of wonder.
All the Maritano women make them, annual tradition.
We each have a tea towel with the recipe.

With a kitchen TORCH I light the final purple taper.
Sitting in its glow, nibbling
on rich, layered sweetness.
My eyes, my fingers, my tongue TOUCH
the connection we never had.

Heather