Southern Rising
snow lies reticent, a virgin blanket
covers nature like a gentle quilt
thick white breath journeys on
through dated chimney stones
black iron stove warms mama
making flour bread in an iron skillet
tiny portions of salt pork, browns
smell of fresh coffee clings to walls
grits gurgle in pot, red-eye gravy
sizzles in sauté pan, a southern relish
sun shines on icicles made of glass
stirring as music notes shift in song
blue jay mimics hawk, on winter holly
her skill mixing smells like magic
dough rising in twin wood bowls
along with smiles of my expectation
beams of love given through a meal
dusting small hands on flour sack apron
cinnamon buns like bites of heaven
rise, buttered, and served by seven
LatinosUSA 
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