I learned how to see through her eyes
a place where imagination became our whisks. Scents mingled within the air.
Each one connecting me into her world. A surprisingly sweeter memory to the time spent together.
She looked around her kitchen
And found a child with an empty stomach
She pondered on the possibilities
And saw options for a semi-picky eater.
She put her arms around me
And lifted me to the counter.
Nano’s kitchen was beautiful,
She always made the best
And knew every dash and pinch
She needed to satisfy the taste buds.
She knew smell couldn’t beat taste
And a childhood food-critic was tough.
She saw the eyes fill with dreams of food
And the dreams were now in reach.
So we folded our hands
And she said, “Bless this food”.
It defied the odds of a childhood food-critic
But it never ended there.
For the kitchen memories remain until
The day we get to do it again.
