Mom turned out to be a pretty good cook, but when we were young she was definitely in the learning process; trial and error, unfortunately for us, was the method she used. Looking back, we can laugh about the things she did, but back then, there was often looks of startled amazement on four young faces as the dishes were set before us. And, occasionally, there was an interesting one word song sang in harmony; “GAK!”

Black Bottom Biscuits

 Black bottom clouds

Hang low in the sky

Smiling, I think of Mom’s biscuits

It was the oven’s fault

The humidity has to be ninety-eight

Eight o’clock in the morning

And it’s already eighty degrees

Tropical, or sub-so at least

Feels like rain

Thunder rolls to the north

Distant, like a bowling ball in the gutter

At closing time on Monday night

A spattering of raindrops

Flutter across the sidewalk

Like magic, the wet spots vanish

Before I step on them

Just cut the bottom off, she says

Laughing with her eyes

The gravy’s good, but um… Mom

What’s up with these potatoes?

Copyright © 2012 C. Mashburn