2 June 2003 | Vol. 3, No. 2
Summer Kitchen
– for Erminna, my grandmother
Before there were appliances that whirr,
this place was the epicenter of summer sweets
made of tart fruits no one bakes anymore,
rhubarb and raspberry pies left to cool
while Erminna hung the wash to dry on the line
right outside. She wore an apron of pins,
the basket balanced on one hip,
the swollen stomach almost due, for
dough was first rolled out flat onto its back
then only had one pl