by Abby Parcell
Considering a Kitchen Garden
The seeds scatter into the sink: the scent of dill reminds me of my mother.
There is no particular event, just cottage cheese and the kitchen counter.
The teardrops of dill cling to my fingers, refusing to shake free,
as stubborn as she was about her wedding ring covered in flour.
When she divined a thermometer with a snap of her wrist,
the short, quick fingers and swollen knuckles,
I always wondered if the hands were like her mother’s,
if mine will be the same.
Abby Parcell is a nonprofit professional working to improve economic mobility in the South. Her work has been recently published in Exponent II. I live in Chapel Hill, NC.
Emerge Literary Journal 