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Gossip
by
Andrea Potos


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 She enjoyed it as much as cooking or eating. It was an important part of living.
                                                                                                                --Marie Giordano

Didn¹t the grandmothers convene
at their kitchen tables, fingers patting

floral oilcloths as they sipped
their percolated coffee swirling

with crumbs of toast and cake,
as they spoke

of what could not be contained:
the news, like love, that must be shared,

the hunger and loneliness at the root
quelled,

the confirming replies:
Ah, ah.

From Yaya's Cloth (Iris Press, 2007).
Used with the author's permission.

 

 



Andrea Potos, who writes in longhand, is a longtime independent bookseller and the author of numerous books; her latest is Her Joy Becomes, from Fernwood Press. Andrea loves reading, travel, cafes, and walking beside lakes and on green trails—“of which there are many,” she says, in Madison, Wisconsin, where she lives. Andrea’s Greek grandparents and their spirit have been an abiding presence and inspiration throughout her life and poetry.

                             

 

 

 


Post New Comment:
anne.lehman2929@att.net:
I love this poem because of its wise woman images and smells of love from the toast and cake.
Posted 01/05/2015 07:44 PM
transitions:
'Oilcloth' brings that era back immediately, the feel - easy to clean, the smell when wet...doubt my sons, let alone my grandkids have any idea what oilcloth is - their loss. Thanks for the memories this fine poem brought back. Judy
Posted 01/05/2015 06:27 PM
barbsteff:
My mother, aunts and cousins would gather in the kitchen, first to do the dishes, then to talk. Wonderful memories! Never knew my grandmothers. Last one died when I was 8 months old. But aunts, ah aunts!
Posted 01/05/2015 02:47 PM
Cindy:
I can see that tablecloth in my memory. My grandma always had oilcloth and my grandpa would drop bits of pipe tobacco on it.
Posted 01/05/2015 07:56 AM
jeanie:
lovely, andrea. i love how the companionship quelled the loneliness at the root. that's where it takes me beyond the poem. nicely done. jt
Posted 01/05/2015 07:05 AM
mimi:
how well I remember those grandmothers...and their wisdom...thanks, Andrea, lovely poem
Posted 01/05/2015 06:24 AM
KevinArnold:
Yes, the abrupt ending works.
Posted 01/05/2015 01:13 AM
rhonasheridan:
Both clever and charming. A good combination.
Posted 01/05/2015 12:54 AM


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