we miss and eat

“Y’all come on over. There’s more food here than we could ever say grace over.” –Aunt Sharon, Monroe, LA.

Corningware and casserole are meaningless 
unless splayed appropriately on a fellowship table, 
spoon handles balanced over every ledge.
In the South, when one takes flight, 
able loved ones set straight to the kitchen. 
They grieve and cook the grits.
They press their fingerprints into cookies.
There is nothing left to do
but move clockwise in line at the table
and drink from the Common Living Cup
spurred to outright, bigger love 
and the making of better pies.


About me


Jane Anne
Reply January 5, 2009

OH, I love this post. I am a southern girl from Tennessee living in the NW. Your words are so true... makes me miss the South.

Mainely Myles
Reply January 5, 2009

Amber, I found your blog via the Mother Letter Project, and your poetic rendering of daily life yanked me in and kept me reading. That MFA may be on hold, but your craft is going strong in the midst of the mess of motherhood! Oh, and if you have some leftovers from that lovely spread, I know of at least one yankee who wouldn't mind indulging in a bit of cornbread or pecan pie. :-)

Reply January 5, 2009

nuttin like southern cookin

Blue Castle
Reply January 5, 2009

I also found you via the Mother Letter Project, and I am so enjoying your blog.

I love posts like this that make me stop and think and breathe.

Reply January 6, 2009

Really enjoyed your blog posted about praying for your children. This post reminded me of a post I read and personalized for my own kids and have hanging as a daily reminder in my bathroom. The link is: http://audreycaroline.blogspot.com/2008/11/seven-prayers-day.html

Reply January 6, 2009

Wow, Wendy. Thanks for that link. I just read some other prayers this morning on the blog from desiringgod.org

I need to recommit myself to prayer in every way.

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