Friday, February 11, 2011
House and Home
My grandparents live in an elongated shotgun house
in Memphis. The flowers grandma plants around
the house and steps are a source of beauty for them
and a joy for all who witness the bursts of color
in bloom all summer and spring.
The pride they have for this house that has
no extra room or spaces is evident in the way
they live and the way they welcome guests.
Neighbors, people from the church, old friends,
and their burgeoning family gather here. The olive
green house expands to hold us all. When winter
comes it’s a shock to see the stark snow after
so much color. But, my, oh, my, the smells inside
from the baking ham in that old stove produces
succulence and desire. The cakes that sits to cool
atop the washer and dryer in the utility room sends
the scents of vanilla and sugar that become ambrosia
and draws us close. That fragrant concoction wafts out
into the streets. I wrap myself up in the feelings
the minute I see Grandma’s smile and her wide open arms
that rivals the fireplace for warmth and I am home.