Normally, your return would be a treat, but on this occasion, it is PLAIN and simple that we are not to have a PARTY. You came in holding grief, needing silence as you sit with the current rupture in your world. We hold that space together, as if in meditation. Of course, we cannot stay there. And so we try to cut and PASTE together a reason for some joy. In the true traditions of our family, you look me straight in the eye, hints of a smile flickering across your face, saying “I would like to have pesto PASTA while I am here.” I nod, grateful to be able to offer memories and summer and reminders of the inevitable passage of time, captured in basil, garlic, pine nuts, cheese, and olive oil.

Georg’ann

Recipe calls for CREAM,
of which there is none.
Keep drawing a BLANK.
An AUDIT of the kitchen
reveals nothing appealing,
not even any of the basics
to whip up a HASTY PASTA,
starting with the pasta itself.
Maybe a lone egg, scrambled
and some stale Triscuits
will stave off the pangs.
I shall relish the combination
of warm and soft with crunchy.
Perhaps a sprinkle of paprika-
that deep rusty red gracing
the small, pale gold mound
will make all the difference.

Heather