To my grandmother, written in spring
Turnips taste of my grandmother
of dirt and tough love and
some bite
of summer gardens
gentle simmer
smothered greens
slowly so you know she loves you
kicking habits for us
iron will
you could find red coke cans under the sink
instead
root beer in mason jars and little tin cups
grits in the morning
food coloring dropped in
to make rainbows
so you know she loves you
vinegar
for okra
for greens
for dyeing eggs
for wasp stings
tigers blood snowballs
in summer
with towels on our laps
don't spill in the car
all from a turnip
eaten at my desk
in the middle of my office
i can feel the heat of summer
