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