they told me a woman with bright orange hair came to my country before it was mine from a very different place carrying her flour board plus a man and nearly seven children made from buns and borscht bursting with life that years later raised me strong and wild with the same blood knowing the warm yeasty stretch of love between tea and scrabble babies born and pass the paska for sunday faspa when we played hard laughing loud and risking blueberry stains with wareneki or rollkuchen watermelon running down my face in sticky summer while her daughters nursed theirs on full affection saying chelle time will tell so woman raise it large and long for you in turn feed the bright orange fire of life
Have a comment on this story? Write to the editors. Include your full name, city and state. Selected comments will be edited for publication in print or online.