Thursday, May 20, 2010

by Laurie Kolp

She would give me pecans,
a simple plea for cookies.
“Wu-ell, these are good,”
she would say each time,
“but I want the ones you
made several years ago;
those are my favorite.
Don’t you remember?
The cookies melted in my mouth
like butter on toast,
were sweet (but not too sweet),
crispy with pecans (not too much),
a touch of vanilla and brown sugar
(or was that something else)
I’ll know the second I taste
the cookie that it’s the one.”
So I spent the rest of her life
baking a plethora of cookies,
never finding the perfect one,
enjoying them with her over coffee;
she would give me pecans.

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