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Beans and Greens

Slowly cooking over low heat, collards.
Bacon and seasoning mixed among green,
The spirit of grandma hovering and covering 
Like the aroma of dinner.

Back in grandma’s kitchen, she stirs her pot of greens.
Bare feet pressed against smooth, aged linoleum
I hover and watch
So these decades later she can join me.

Beans sit in hot water, 
A poor man’s meal released,
Imperceptibly expanding 
To become dinner.

Flavor emancipated through
A low heat growing.
Increased anticipation
Like grandma cooking dinner in the kitchen.

Time reaches back to 
To a woman who still inspires me
To be authentic and
To bring her with me.

Her pace is my pace today
I feel her in this hot water of adversity 
Covering me
As I expand to become more.

Grandma’s quiet reserve 
Sits by stoic, stirring me to become
Greater than I am,
Like beans and greens.

The slow pace, the anticipation, the heat,
Difficulties make us who we are,
Grandma and me,
Beans and greens.

Images (cropped) by: Flickr Users Mush M and Brett Spangler, respectively