Pinch
You never really
left the kitchen.
Your biography?
Thanksgivings,
written in
schoolhouse cursive
on thumb shuffles
of yellowed index
cards:
Candied Sweet
Potato Casserole
Giblet Gravy
Castiron
Cornbread
Cranberry
Dressing
Bread Pudding
scrawled within
crinkle-worn edges
foxing
fingerprints
of leftover
grease.
Your laugh of
measurements
for rosemary,
sage, and thyme
unpredictable.
Your
flour-crooked fingertips
squeezing the
dinner rolls
of my cheeks.
At this drop-leaf
table
I was sure
you were the
centerpiece,
funny old bird,
saved in the
Sunday creeklight
of this
backcountry.
Reborn for days
like this.
On this first
year since,
I must be
dreaming…
a headstone of
tradition
weathered just
beyond the
window of these
dishes.
Aaron McGuffin is a poet and physician who lives and writes in the mountains of Appalachia. He is currently completing an MFA in poetry at West Virginia Wesleyan University. His work explores the liminal space of whimsy and gravity in family, memory, and medicine. His poems have appeared in Archives of Pediatrics & Adolescent Medicine, Intima, Pharos, Literary Hatchet, As the Crow Flies, and ContiguousLyt, with work forthcoming in Appalachian Journal and Red Ogre Journal.
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