Poetry: Red Pot

 

By Genevieve Fitzgerald

 

She always calls
it her
baby

 

Keeps it stored
on the
range

 

Burnished red pot
with two
handles

 

It braises magic,
each dish
sublime

 

Cassoulet and curries
alike sinfully
charmed

 

The centerpiece at
all family
parties

 

Even its name
exudes perfect
taste

 

How I covet
my grandmother’s
pot

 


 

Genevieve Fitzgerald was born in Queens, New York, read English for a year at Oxford University, is the mother of three children and currently lives in Raleigh, NC. She facilitates a community writers’ group and a writing workshop for children. Her poetry and prose appears in several journals.

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