Читать книгу Beyond All Bearing - Susan Delaney Spear - Страница 13

You winked and raised your

index finger to your lips.

The lard spit; I jumped.

You glanced over your shoulder.

You spooned cold yellow squares

into the cast iron pan.

Pale yellow turned to gold,

the edges crisped and browned.

You carefully lifted the squares

onto each white plastic plate.

Slice the butter you said

and handed me the knife.

I put two cool cubes

on fried corn meal squares

and watched them melt, pool

and swim toward the edges.

You removed Aunt Jemima’s cap

and lifted her glass body.

We sat on the floor

watching black and white cartoons.

You whispered, Don’t tell Mommy

I fried mush for breakfast.

I chewed that sticky secret,

so tender, crisp, and rich.