Sometimes you don't notice a thing
until you feel the lack
I never felt like a Jew
until I was the only one around
in a small South Carolina town
My speech became a foreign tongue
my holidays unacknowledged
my religion suspect
my food nowhere
Shared memories
shared recipes
shared experiences
vanished like the 'g's on the ends of words
On a visit home they returned
as I opened the front door
Enveloped in thick, fragrant air
a big shiny pot atop the stove
slowly simmering golden heaven
Parting lips anticipated warm luscious liquid kisses
a soupçon of salt
to keep it interesting
and more...
fluffy white clouds succumbed to my spoon
little round angels in heaven's tub
I swallowed the whole show
This was my communion
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