Meet Me In The Kitchen I

hand made, wheel throw with gold details. not microwave or dishwasher safe. 
from my hands to yours. Xx

I hovered over the sink with scissors in hand, snipping the stem end from each fresh bloom, and arranging them in my favorite vase. Branches from the garden’s red oak cast dappled light on the counter, my forearms briefly cutting through the rays as I worked. It occurred to me that it must have been this same time of day when we made the bolognese. I can still see your knuckles teasing the sunbeams as you sliced a garlic clove and shared your mom’s secret: diced, not minced, always fresh. But then I recall the snow, heavy on the outside sill, and know that though the lightcast is the same, the time has passed. The sun is staying up later these days and shining on me alone, here, in the season after you.