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![Profile picture of Willow]()
Willow posted in the group National Poetry Month
Sensory Memories
“why are you so addicted to popcorn?”
because on Saturday evenings…
when I was small…
(too young to know of more exciting things…
like theaters and urban adventures)
there was a table that became an arenawhere board games and Uno took over
and we gathered as a family…
no chores…
otherwise idle hands…
a rarity…special treatand grandma would pull out the battered soup pot
popping a whopping big bowl
it was never set in the middle of the table
no…it remained on the counter
a collection of Correlle bowls waitingit was from those humble little vessels we were allowed to eat
set to the right hand side of each player
reserving the larger space…
for Scrabble tiles and cardsscent of butter and corn filling the room
seeping into the brief silences amidst chaos
an aroma that smelled of joy…
and laughter…
togetherness…
in a way I’ve yet to recaptureI’ve been trying ever since
every time I pop my own…
I’m back there…
in the smells and sounds…
of all that love4 Comments-
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![Profile picture of Willow]()
Thank you 😊 I make popcorn every week, never recapture those moments but it brings back the memories
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![Profile picture of redzone]()
Willow, I make the popcorn the same way your grandmother did, 3 quart pot, melt the butter and mix. But I must confess, the popcorn goes in a big bowl and I eat it all from there. Thanks for sharing the popcorn….er… I mean the poem. ;0) -Curt
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![Profile picture of Willow]()
There were a minimum of a dozen of us at that table. There would have been no room for a big bowl. I’ve never seen a bowl the size she used for the popcorn since then. I use an air popper but yes, it goes in a bowl and it’s all mine too. 😊
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Aw, I can smell the corn popping from here – a really atmospheric poem.