Thursday, September 15, 2011

sacred day two hundred fifty-seven

well preserved.

chopping and canning these pears was a sacred act.  my boy was in bed, getting rest.  i was in the kitchen listening to the rhythm of the knife as each pear was chopped into small, coarse pieces for the dutch oven.  again and again, my ancestors show up and are present.  they were with me in this kitchen.

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