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If you wish, you can post your kitchen poem or your group poem here.

Mother’s Kitchen

June’s morning fog roles back to the bay. My Mother’s first kitchen was that high grey kitchen inEl Cerrito. Grandma Nelson’s kitchen. Now, my Mother’s kitchen has become Kristine’s kitchen. The one Grandpa Nelson built for Mom and Dad.

In June, morning fogs leave the kitchen window and retreat towardsEl Cerrito. Kristine sits at the tile table, those iron legs curve down to the floor The grey scuff marks on the linoleum remind her of limits. Those light curved fiberglass chairs They have transparency and movement.

Look through the glass, look through the fog Lawn, dog, horse pasture, high tension electric wires, the vegetable garden, and the driveway Dad would have driven up that drive way hours ago Drive that white ranch wagon Drive with a cup of coffee between his knees and a plate of pancakes on the steering wheel.

Kristine takes the bread out of the oven. Cut a few slices, make some toast, grab a couple of the little green and red stippled apples for lunch. The fog will be gone by the time Mom is able to get out of bed. Even on a good day she can’t use the bread saw anymore. Cut a few more slices for her.

It is time to go out into the foggy morning, grab a green Miramonte Matador sweat shirt. Maybe there is time to water that dying African violet – or is it over-watered already?

Rebecca Bowers SJVWP Summer Institute 2011

My Mother’s Kitchen

The smell of tamales fills the air Leftover ojas everywhere - I can hardly wait until they’re done. Listening to the sound of the water run - “Help with the dishes, mija!” my mother declares. Then out walks my grandmother with her smile so rare. She comes over and gives me a loving tap on the shoulder. I’ve loved this forever, even now that I’m older. The sight of her cream colored apron - With the mess of masa blending in – The scene is picture perfect, except for the ivy. The dead leaves hanging down, neglected, no one sees but me. Finally I hear it; the sound warms my heart and brings a smile to my face. The oven timer rings, my mouth waters for that spectacular taste - Lupita Fuentes Kitchen poem My lovely mother, Is the best cook everGr She can make pork chops, Chicken, beef and lamb chops too, When we get together for family gatherings, We know it’s time for some good ‘ol family grub, My mom would win hands down, If she had a throw down, With Rachel Ray, Paula Dean or Bobby Flay, For the holidays my mom will announce, Red Velvet and Chessecake are in the house, And I know these memories will last forever in my heart.

Group Poem from Meta's group The field of sunflowers stretched out next to a field of green, waved in harmony in the cool morning breeze. It was a pleasant morning -- the air was crisp and clear. Yet some dark presence lurked in the cold wind. It was shimmering and illusive. It was like a light flickering in the dark. A lighthouse, a lantern, a candle in the window. The yellow glow reflects the summer sun.

Debbie Perez In the cool of the morning Down near the flat boulder Icy water flowing near to the brink

Buddy, with Grandma, silently sat Stomach growling, anticipating Sensing a tug, feeling a jerk Tightening a grip Working the filament so sure of success The biggest one yet

Slung over a shoulder Now dropped in the sink Slick and shiny, all dripping wet Expert hands, flashes of silver and light, Golden cornmeal In the old summer kitchen oil is sizzling

Baking powder biscuits, brown and warm Honey and butter melt, slipping down Stacked slices of green tomatoes lay waiting Salty, crunchy, tangy, no regret

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** My Grandmother’s Kitchen ** L. Ayanna Evans July 2011 Aunts welcome Some must stay—Shirley Some told to stay—Janice Others invited to leave—Joyce, Janet, JoAnn Greens and neckbones Large Pots Full sinks Hot ovens Sounds of laughter Chopping, Pounding Exuberant Conversing Momma dies All is silent now Only green grass 13110528511311052851131105285113110528511311052851131105285113110528511311052851131105285113110528511311052851131105285113110528511311052851131105285113110528511311052851131105285113110528511311052851131105285113110528511311052851131105285113110528511311052851131105285113110528511311052851131105285113110528511311052851user:Ayanna2