Glass Tales by Marlynn Rosario,
Marlynn was born in Burma but lives in the North East; her poems are informed by the awareness of crossing cultures, linguistically and socially. Her style is rich and satisfying.
Her spitting pan, pitted and marked with use,
a wide, shallow skillet, that transformed
the red-eyed albino soup of school semolina, to festival food.
Renewing wrinkled sultana,
scalding them in melting butter to glistening grapes,
she tanned the air with nutmeg, cinnamon,
teased our teeth with chopped almonds.
Adding a snatch of spice, a cast of sugar,
the graininess of semolina,
she splashed long-necked milk from a reckless height,
mixed and stirred.
Stooled for height, I turned the slope-sided wooden spoon
through heat and balancing, felt thickening and strength.
Cutting cakey diamonds, happily I burnt my fingers.