Flipping through
Her old brown box,
Searching through
The yellowed cards
For the Burnt Sugar recipe,
I saw her writing,
So firm, so clear.
“One cup sugar,
stir until it melts
and burns
in intense blue smoke.”
I could see her
In her apron
At the old stove
Stirring the sugar
In a black iron skillet.
I could see her,
But I could not hear her.
There was a time
After she was gone
When I could hear
Her voice, so firm, so clear.
But the years passed
And sometime
When I was not listening
Her voice just went away.
– Verniel Lundquist
