The kitchen teems with unparalleled smells of
chickens frying, rich gravies bubbling, cinnamon toast broiling
the morning coffee boiling and perking and dripping
and sugar iced tea pouring from a far bellied stainless steel pitcher
into sweating glasses.
see
GRACE (CD)
by
Barbara Bullard
(and in a part of the country where IMAGE is everything...
please note: Barbara is blind)
Read more about her and her work here...
About Poetry (SoCAL) Website...
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