Sunday, July 8, 2012


Every summer
as a child
I'd look at my mom and Nana

and ask


Why do we make jam on the hottest day in July?

There was no answer. Just flushed faces
hovering over hot burners
stirring jam and
preparing jars, jars and more jars.

Of course, maybe I didn't hear the answer
Lost in a cloud of berry-infused foam, just skimmed from the pot.
A small reward for hulling berries in a July-hot kitchen.

This summer
I learned why we makers of jam wait.

My berries, sitting on the counter in a July-hot kitchen
Bought at a farmers market this morning
Are fragrant

And swell in the early afternoon heat.

Small, sweet teardrops of  juice bleed onto the counter, the cutting board
And stain my fingers.

My reward 
For making jam in a July-hot kitchen.

1 comment:

  1. I've only ever attempted making one jam. Pineapple, because I wanted to make pineapple tarts. You're making me drool with that description though. Hope not too much sweat went into the jam.