On entering, we are assailed
by the smells:
sausage and sage, butter,
brown sugar,
cinnamon …
commingling, tempting;
then the warmth
oven on long before dawn,
steam rising from
various sized pots…
not to mention body
heat—
for everyone gathers
here in this room.
Johnny Mathis, Frank
Sinatra, Nat King Cole
echo from the wooden console
radio
in the next room,
two sisters croon out
their favorites;
a third—younger—swoons,
exclaiming once again
how she “loves that skinny Italian boy from
Jersey.”
A cacophony of voices
and laughter
rise and fall.
The house becomes a budding
entity
breathing, beating with the life
of those gathered
here…
We carry these images
from our past...
family, friends,
gatherings
spinning together as
one.
Defining; reminding where
we come from,
who we are
...and we pass it
forward
to our children,
this gift of
unconditional love
in a place we call ‘home.’
© Ginny Brannan 2014
Family photo, 1956.
Shared: dVerse Poets Meeting the Bar: Thanksgiving Turkey with a side of Poetry
Also honored to have it shared here by Women's Spiritual Poetry
The image is my family: towards the back Aunt Jane on the left; then my mom, with her back to us, stylin' as always; then Aunt Mary and Aunt Rose, to the far right peaking in with glasses I believe is my Aunt "Butch"(Bernadette); in the foreground leaning over I believe is my Italian grandfather, that baby on the lap, that would be me, not sure in whose lap but it could be Aunt Ginny or one of my dad's sisters. I remember so many Christmases of my childhood, tradition to stop at Aunt Mary's house after church (she lived across the street from the church!). Her stereo would be on playing all the holiday favorites. The reference to "that boy in NJ" is for my Aunt Gin, who adored Frank Sinatra! My mom passed when I was seven, this photo a freeze-framed memory of a very special time.
Shared: dVerse Poets Meeting the Bar: Thanksgiving Turkey with a side of Poetry
Also honored to have it shared here by Women's Spiritual Poetry
The image is my family: towards the back Aunt Jane on the left; then my mom, with her back to us, stylin' as always; then Aunt Mary and Aunt Rose, to the far right peaking in with glasses I believe is my Aunt "Butch"(Bernadette); in the foreground leaning over I believe is my Italian grandfather, that baby on the lap, that would be me, not sure in whose lap but it could be Aunt Ginny or one of my dad's sisters. I remember so many Christmases of my childhood, tradition to stop at Aunt Mary's house after church (she lived across the street from the church!). Her stereo would be on playing all the holiday favorites. The reference to "that boy in NJ" is for my Aunt Gin, who adored Frank Sinatra! My mom passed when I was seven, this photo a freeze-framed memory of a very special time.
