Momma’s Recipe
Jasmine Harris
smackin’ my lips
& lickin’ fried residue fingers
What you makin’ Momma?
cause as soon as bodies ‘bound awake
savory soul snatching scents of love hit my nostrils
Momma responded by handing us aprons
handing us bowls, spatulas, and spoons
handing us whisks and ware for washing
not a moment too soon
handing us reigns to this room
cause knee high meant high enough to reach the oven
as you passed down seasoned scribes of seven generations
your hands wrapped ‘round me
& whipped wonders
in cast iron skillets
my consolation
cooked soothing soups
when faces were singed with sadness
Momma was full of multitasking concentration
So as I soak these dishes
I preheat the stove top grabbing ‘gredients without measuring mixes
All the while sweet talking
Soothing sounds and smells
Giving the next chef kisses
This continuity fulfilling her wishes
This here buttermilk pound cake, hot water cornbread, foot you found in my greens is encrypted
No need to ask if it’s purchased, modernized with raisins, or pieces of pie already predicted
Only
did you fix it
Using Momma’s recipe
Jasmine Harris is an Educational Specialist and published poet featured in the International Poetry Digest, Ink & Voices, Rigorous, etc. Author of, I May Have Been In My Feelings, focuses her writing on identity, relationships, and the climate of society. Harris frequently quotes her inspirations as Maya Angelou, Ntozake Shange, and Tupac Shakur. Stay updated with her work and projects through her website jasminemharris.weebly.com or by following her on Instagram @ dr_harris.