art: caitlin peck
There is no guest list written out in advance for a funeral
only the long phone tree rings gathering over a lifetime
Branches reaching out as the news drifts down
allowing some rarely connected a chance
to reminisce raking in days long gone by
My memory fails me as I strain to remember
each step of helping my grandmother canning
fresh jam in her basement
Only that my little hands grew tired
and I wanted to go to the park afterwards
but this small kind woman’s overall patience still preserves
with me to this day even if her individual steps of that day are forgotten
As she taught me each stage that afternoon
I sensed the difference on my tongue of
the personal process versus corporate compliance
from the jam just one small ingredient placed at the long family table
Which now seems fresher in my memory than those days
when just fallen off the calendar
moments savored with age
uncapped from their jars.