An Inheritance.

Written by a hand once familiar,
still loved.
Brought out, used, preserved,
passed on.
Burned, smeared, stained, mended,
but still surviving
to send forward the secrets
of the past.

The woman who wrote it,
the heat of the oven,
the smell of the rising cake,
the touch of the hand which moved it out of danger,
the movement of the spoon
dripping soft mixture,
the comings and goings from the warm kitchen,
the anticipation,
the stirring,
the careful wrapping,
the opening of the oven door,
the anxious look,
the eager tasting,
are all locked inside a single sheet of paper,
preserved for its inheritors.
Preserved for all women
for all time.



2 comments on “An Inheritance.

  1. Nigel Morgan says:


    Handwritten recipes can be powerful objects, and particularly when they are associated with Christmas. I have my grandmother’s recipe for Simnel cake, which I’ve made for many years at Easter.

    Here’s my Christmas Cake (very short) story.

    Thank you for another thought-summoning poem.


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