I remember the days of sitting on the counter watching my mother whip up sweet treats,
Remember watching in amazement as she turned simple ingredients into cakes and cookies,
I smile as I stand in my own kitchen looking over old recipe books, making the same things she did,
The magic is still there in the flour, sugar, and eggs,
I think of all the women in my line, and how all their knowledge has been passed down to me, as I whip together treats for my family.
YOU ARE READING
A Skip Down the Pathway
Non-FictionA collection of poetry exploring myself, my relationship with the world, and the relationship with the women in my life.
