tomato jam thick
with tangy lemon slices
brings back summer's warmth
The air hung heavy and thick at my grandparents' house. The humid Illinois air held onto smells that never lingered in the arid air of my California home. Their basement smelled musty, warm and damp from the wringer washing machine. A basket under the laundry chute caught the toys and clothes we dropped down from the upstairs hallway; the basement aroma rising through the chute to greet us. We tossed birdseed on the back lawn and caught fireflies in jars. We baked sugar cookies, thin and crisp. I have my grandma's recipe for those cookies -- and for the tomato jam we spread on toast for breakfast.
Thank you to Joseph Harker for the Reverie prompt on linking memories. Also thanks to We Write Poems for the form (haibun) prompt.
